


Whatever Happened to the Fairest of Them All

by RozUnderPressure



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Eventual Romance, Friendship, Multi, OT3, Other, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 74,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RozUnderPressure/pseuds/RozUnderPressure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy Thorne escapes her brush with Miss Frye in the Tower of London, only to discover betrayal was planed for her future by none other than Crawford Starrick, so now, it looks like Evie and Jacob have an unexpected ally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shifting Loyalties

**Morning:**

"Miss Thorne, wait!" said the distressed butler, but the redhead ignored him completely and practically kicked the door to Crawford Starrick's office, walking straight to his table and slamming a letter on top of it.

"What is the meaning of this?" She asked, her voice furious.

The butler spoke; "Mr. Starrick I am so sorry, I tried to–"

Starrick calmly raised one hand. "It's alright, Charles, you may go. Leave Miss Thorne and I alone." he said simply, ignoring the searing, unblinking look that Lucy kept on his face and, as soon as the butler left, the Grand Master let out a deep sigh and looked at her. "What is wrong?"

She looked at him incredulous; "What is wrong? I ask you the same! What does this letter means?"

The Grand Master took the letter she offered him, managing to hide his surprise over her finding it. He ordered the letter to be kept sealed and hidden till he gave the order, how that reached Lucy's hand was beyond him and certainly was a trouble to be solved, but now the secret was out and he had to keep his cool, since Thorne certainly had no intention of keeping her's.

"It is true isn't it?" He said simply. "Only one of us can use the shroud and I have to keep this enterprise going, for the good of London and the world." He took a sip from his tea, suddenly finding himself very aware of his knife at the end of the table. "Even as we speak, the assassins take more and more of London–"

"And to that you'll discard me now I am not longer useful." Lucy spat back.

"That's not true." He pointed out. "I meant every word, Lucy, you did a good service to the order and I promise to take care of you, as a good friend would."

Those words brought such rage upon her she picked up the nearest object, a wooden reproduction of the Buckingham palace and threw it at his face with such fury that Crawford only managed to dodge it by an inch. It did, however, hit the window, breaking it with a loud shattering sound, landing on the street below and for the first time in the entire conversation Starrick looked like he was awake.

"MY GOD, LUCY! BE REASONABLE!" He screamed. "This is for the good of the world! For the order!"

"I thought I was no longer part of the order!" She responded sarcastically. "Your tone certainly implied it!"

"You were not supposed to read that so soon!" he screamed back, his rage over things not going his way finally showing.

At this point the door busted open and several templar guards poured in. "SIR, MISS, IS EVERYTHING OK?" asked the captain.

Lucy ignored the guards "GO TO HELL, CRAWFORD!" She screamed back, ripping both the templar cross at her shoulder and the ring from her finger, throwing both at him. "You can keep your damn order, but you're never getting the should!".

Those words finally caused Starrick to snap, his face contorting in fury; "Let's see about that!" He looked at the guards. "DIDN'T YOU HEARD? She betrayed the order! GET HER and get the key!"

Just at this moment Lucy Thorne finally realized that not only she still had the key around her neck, but she was also surrounded by guards. She felt something cold go down her spine, but her courage always did rise in these moments. Lucy Thorne was no coward and there wasn't one meek bone in her body, so she jumped to alert, looking for ways to escape.

Fortunately a few of the guards that came in where working directly under her and therefore slightly confused about the order given by the Grand Master. Being a bit faster than any of them and taking advantage of their confusion she threw a smoke bomb on the floor and ran out, managing to escape through the office door, making her way to the front door of the house in record time, only to trip over the model she herself threw out of the window, cutting her arms in the glass all over the floor.

Sometimes your mistakes just come back to bite you in the ass.

She managed to stand up just in time to see Crawford Starrick poking his head out of the window.

"GET HER!" he screamed at the templar guards and few blighters in the streets.

These guards immediately jumped into action, forcing Lucy to run for it. Without many options she jumped into a carriage and kicked the driver out, speeding away from the scene as fast as the horses could carry her.

Her mind raced more than her horses and her focus was just the one to get as far away from Starrick and his lackeys as possible, speeding towards Lambeth, recently conquered by the Rooks, which wasn't safe, but it was, at the moment, relatively safer.

She started to cool down as soon as she realized she was out of danger and the horses couldn't take running anymore. She slowed down the poor animals and abandoned the carriage, finding refuge in a dark alleyway. She took deep breaths and finally was able to calm down.

Her mother always reprehended her inability to control her temper, saying that it would be her downfall and here it was; it all downed on her. She couldn't go back home, it was crawling with templar guards. Those who used to be HER templar guards. It wouldn't be long till Starrick ordered Roth to send his Blighters for her and it wasn't like the Rooks would spare her either. There would be a prize on her head and a prize even greater on the key.

All her research. All those years and all that knowledge wasted away, soon to be taken by Starrick, it wouldn't be long till her houses, including the former Kenway Mansion, were raided, her fortune ransacked and that just barely took a backseat to how much her life was in the line. Who could possibly survive a city full of enemies who would kill you in a first chance? Where could she be safe now? Who could possibly go against the might of the Templars?

Well, it was obvious. Lucy looked upon the train station. The Templars knew that the home base of the Rooks was the train, but there was never any confirmation that the assassins lived there as well and creating trouble at a train station or the train lines, so essential for Starrick's own business, wasn't an option. For her, there was never any DOUBT they lived in the train.

Besides, she wondered how dear Miss Frye was doing after she shot her in the leg in the Tower of London. Perhaps, it was time to pay her a visit, hopefully, her offer would be enough to ward of any hard feelings from that little wound.

**Afternoon:**

"How is your leg?" It was the first thing Henry asked every time he came into her wagon. The bullet had only grazed her inner thigh, she bled and was forced to run, but it was manageable.

"It's been two days, my pride is the only thing that still hurts." It was true, Jacob and her were blessed with astoundingly fast healing to their bodies, but their pride was far less used to injury. She stood up to show that she could do so on her leg and walk just fine, before adding; "Still no news on her?".

"Actually, she was seen today going into Starrick's house."

"Did she–"

"No news of a chest or anything like that." Henry said hopefully "She likely didn't found it."

"She might have had." The master assassin rubbed her eyes.

"She still had the key around her neck." He added. Evie looked terrible, bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep, was almost like being out of commission to go around town and do things was far worse than running around and frankly, Henry was worried and willing to do or say anything to make her feel better.

"That means nothing…" She said dryly. Pressing eyes with thumb and forefinger, feeling tired. "Damn it." she mumbled under her breath before adding: "Thank you, Mr. Green, keep a look out for her, I'll continue my research."

"Oh, but that's not all!" Henry said a bit more enthusiastic. "There was some sort of commotion in his office."

"Commotion?"

"Yes, shortly after Miss Thorne went in… We still don't know what went down, but I am looking into it."

"I can help!" Evie shot up, ready to be out in the field again.

"I rather you do me a favor, please, it's important." He said, almost shyly.

"Yes?"

"Sleep." He said simply. "You look very tired and you need some rest. As I said before, I admire your passion, but you need some rest." He smiled at her. "Please?"

His eyes were pleading and that warmed her heart, but still, it made her feel useless and weak. Then again, she was tired and more time without sleep would make her even more useless. In the end, her more logical mind won. "Alright," and added quickly "but I'll still go out tonight."

"As long as you sleep a little." He smiled and extended his hand to grab her's. "Sleep well, Miss Frye." He said, leaving her wagon.

"Be careful out there, Henry." she whispered and removing just her coat, boots and hidden blade she snuggled into her bed.

**Evening:**

Quietly, she sneaked into the train, taking advantage to the crowd in the platform. Over her shoulders a green and yellow overcoat she had stolen from one of their gang after knocking out the bastard. Looking inside, to the left she saw a nice wagon with a sofa on it and a board with what seemed to be pictures of all the templars, most of whom they've killed the exceptions being herself and Crawford, the red X over Pearl making her grind her teeth in anger for a second, but she took a deep breath and pressed forward, all too aware her temper had gotten her into trouble that day already.

To the right a closed door and darkened wagon, but looking inside the recognized the black and red coat she saw covering miss Frye many times before, hanging from a rack. She opened the door without a sound and walked in.

Slowly she made her way with light footsteps to the bed. She could only see part of the head of the person sleeping, but she could tell easily it was Miss Frye. Even under the dim candle light her freckles were visible over the bridge of her upturned nose. A very pretty young woman, Thorne had to admit.

Now, she didn't know exactly what to do. Should she wake her up? Maybe. Would the assassin jump her and kill her without a chance to explain herself? Probably. Perhaps, waking her up like that wasn't a good idea.

Should she sit back and wait for the assassin to wake up? What would her reaction be? Maybe, letting her wake by her own volition was a better idea, there would be a greater chance of Miss Frye being groggy from that and she did looked properly knocked out, so much that Lucy turned around, putting her back to the sleeping assassin without fear, looking at the pictures hanging over the "fireplace". She found herself examining the assassin's wagon, while continuing her line of thought.

It was night. What if Miss Frye had retired already and Lucy would have to wait till morning? What if her brother came in and– at this point there was a rush of covers being pushed aside and Lucy could turn just in time to have a body throwing her against the wall, moving her own dagger, using the flat side, just in time to stop the kukri that was coming directly to her throat from ending her right there and then and be met by a pair of concentrated green eyes focused on her, she also felt Evie's left hand pressing against her chest, palm right between her breasts.

There was a tense silence in which Evie didn't relent the pressure applied to her kukri nor did Lucy made any kind of movement, but it was understandable since both her hands where occupied holding her dagger in a defensive manner over her throat.

"Miss Thorne."

"Miss Frye." The templar responded in the same tone "Do you usually sleep with your hidden blade?" Thorne asked, looking at her left hand. "At least I assume that was what you were trying to do, and not just grope me."

Evie applied more pressure to the kukri and the curved blade actually touched Lucy's neck, a thin trickle of blood coming from the light wound, but Lucy didn't relent, grinding her teeth.

"What are you doing here?" The assassin asked.

"Crawford tried to kill me, I need your help!" She said, her voice slightly strained, but her eyes were set and defiant.

The assassin relented slightly; "What?"

"Crawford tried to kill me." She repeated, taking a deep breath. "I am not longer a templar." she moved the fingers in her left hand to show she no longer wore the ring and when that made Evie relent a bit more, she slowly moved to remove the green coat from her shoulder to show that the templar cross was now ripped away.

At this, Evie pulled away, but not without disarming the, apparently, ex-templar's from her dagger and throwing it on top of her bed, all the while not taking her eyes from Thorne.

"Why?" Evie asked, taking a step back.

Lucy removed the Rook gang coat and turned her back to Evie, crossing both hands behind her back and looking out of the train window. It was a calculated gesture in many ways. It had a double purpose; the first one being to show she trusted Evie wouldn't try to stab her in the back (again) and the second one; "I told him that I couldn't find the shroud and perhaps, it should be kept where it is. That is not meant to be used." to hide her lie. She then turned around and added; "He intents to get the shroud so he can rule London forever and he might." She cleared her throat, "I don't want that." Well that WAS true now. "It's too much power for one person, specially someone who wishes to do nothing to have the world under his thumb." As this words left her lips, she more she realized it was all true.

Evie didn't bought it and when she spoke, her voice was dripping with sarcasm "That's a pretty big change of heart, Miss Thorne."

Lucy grinned to herself for a second but it didn't show in her face, the girl was smart, that was undeniable. She put both hands on her back, thinking of what would convince her, when it occurred to her what could do it and so, she started to take off her coat.

As the redhead started to unbutton, Evie took a step back, surprised and puzzled, which soon passed when she saw the blood stains on her white shirt underneath. "Do you think I did this to myself?" Lucy said. "And if you need more prof of my intentions." She then took the key from her neck and extended her hand to Evie. "Take it, it's your."

The assassin looked at her, taking the key from her without any resistance on her part.

"If you help me recover it, of course, you'll have my research." She walked towards Evie. "And my resources. I am a very, VERY, rich woman, Miss Frye." She grinned. "All I want in return is the opportunity to help stop Starrick."

"You're offering too much, Thorne."

Lucy let out a scoff "This is barely enough to get started. You and your brother have no idea how far the tendrils of Starrick's influence reaches, I do. I guarantee you Miss Frye, what I offer is the bare minimum, but the information I have is a precious resource." She extended her hand to offer an agreement and to her surprise a devilish, and attractive smile came upon Miss Frye's face as she spat on her hand, leaving the redhead puzzled. "What?"

"Do it." Evie grinned. "So I know I can trust you."

Lucy looked at her in disgust, but spat on her hand and did what the assassin asked with a displeased expression.

Evie stared at her with that smile on her face, holding her hand for what felt like several HOURS, but was in fact a few seconds before finally letting her go. "Take of your shirt, let me clean those wounds."

Still mildly disgusted, Lucy complied.

**Night:**

After a whole night of tailing blighters Jacob could finally go back to his home, maybe get a drink in the wagon bar, get some sleep in his sofa and get ready for the heart attack he would give Freddy the day after. A part of him REALLY wanted to see his' expression when he finally told him it was Twopenny after all, he grinned to himself over that as he jumped on top of the train and went down to his wagon, saying goodnight to the rook standing in the other one.

"Evie?" He called, as it was his habit. His sister was not very happy lately, which was understandable. Usually he would tease her about these stuff, but he really didn't felt like it this time, she seemed genuinely frustrated and almost sad about being cooked up in the train for those two days, so, to cheer her up, he bought a bag of candies for her, selected by Clara herself… He also ate a few, but you could hardly blame the man, one gets hungry tailing a fiendish gang of bank robbers the whole night.

He knocked at her cabin door and called her again. Getting no response he gently opened the door, calling her once again. Inside, he saw a shirtless woman, wearing nothing but her corset, with bruised arms, sitting on Evie's bed.

A red headed woman.

A woman that was most certainly not Evie.

Yet he asked: "Evie?"

"… No." Lucy responded, matter-of-factly.

"I am here, Jacob." He heard a voice behind him, and it was Evie with a roll of gauze in her hand.

"Who is that?" Jacob asked. "She looks familiar." He stared at her.

"That's Miss Lucy Thorne." Evie said simply, picking up a bottle of some clear liquid that the assassins used to clean superficial wounds since the days of Masyaf, but couldn't go back into the wagon, since Jacob held her by the upper arm.

"Excuse us a second, Miss Thorne, I need to have a little word with my sister." and pulled her back into his wagon, closing the door; "Dear sister, I have the impression you forgot what the expression, 'assassination target' means." He said in a sarcastic whisper. "I understand her assassination didn't went as you wanted to, but this is too much. What the hell is she doing here?"

"Starrick tried to kill her." Evie said simply. "She came to look for our help."

"And why did he tried to kill her?"

"Apparently, she had a change of heart." Evie said, and the crook in her eyebrow told Jacob all he needed to know.

"You don't believe that." He stated his voice even a lower whisper.

"Of course I do." she said, also in a whisper and he grinned at her tone, slightly, but soon went to a serious expression that really didn't work with his face. "Trust me." She added.

"Don't I always?" He grinned. "Alright, you can keep a pet templar, but only if you promise to clean after her." Evie rolled her eyes and went back into her wagon, followed by Jacob."

"Well, Miss Thorne." Jacob said, in grandiose tone that privately reminded Lucy of Roth. "Now that my sister has explained everything, I'd like to tell, welcome, make yourself at home and don't try anything or I'll kill you." He smiled at her. A smile would had been friendly, if she was deaf. "Your choice, Miss Thorne."

"Thank you, Mr. Frye." Lucy responded sarcastically and added. "I rather live."

"Fantastic! We shall get along very well then!" He tipped his head at her and his sister and left.

"Is he always like that?" The ex-Templar asked.

"No." Evie responded, examine her wounds and swabbing the clear liquid into some gauze and rubbing it on Lucy's wounds, the templar sucked air between her teeth, but said nothing of pain. "He usually doesn't give warnings." Evie smiled, looking directly at the her before adding; "You're special."

"Charmed." The redhead responded with a grimace; "How is your leg?"

'This is going to be fun.' The assassin thought, with irony.

–(tbc hopefully)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got in.  
> Very well, dear reader, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. As it's publishing on AO3, I am almost done with chapter 2, but due to having a few health problems, that is not finished yet. It's much longer than this and starts to lay ground work for some ships and some more characters of importance will show up.  
> I know what I want to happen, but I do also let a few things flow naturally when writing, so, not everything is set in stone.  
> Tell me what you think. Long reviews make me happy, suggestions and critiques are also welcome.


	2. Research and Recovery

_When Starrick's first birthday after he became the templar grand master came, Pearl Attaway, his beloved cousin, friend and fellow templar, knew exactly what to give her cousin. She commissioned a revolver from the best gunsmith in the United States, with the design of the templar cross in gold. The revolver immediately became Starrick's most prized possession and the weapon seemed almost blessed; never once failing him and being always at his side when he needed it._

_Now, in a world without her, that gun was almost painful to look at, still, he did, and his eyes were still concentrated on it as Lucy came in that evening._

" _Is everything ready for tonight?" Starrick asked her, eyes still fixated on his revolver._

" _Yes. Don't worry Crawford. By tomorrow we'll have the shroud and the Fryes."_

" _Your trap is ready then?"_

" _I am absolutely sure Miss Frye will come for me."_

" _Good. Good luck."_

_She bowed her head slightly and turned on her heels._

" _Miss Thorne, wait." He said suddenly. "Take my revolver with you." Starrick looked at her with his crestfallen eyes. "For your protection." He lied._

" _I have my dagger." Thorne responded. "Besides, that revolver was a gift from-"_

" _I know." He cut her. "It has never failed me. It shan't fail you either. You do know how to use it don't you?"_

_Lucy approached and picked up the revolver, admiring the crafting and detail in it. The weapon itself had a personality to it that would make anyone who knew Crawford at all recognize it as his. It was both personal and unique to Crawford. Pearl always had impeccable taste and an eye for detail. "Well enough. She thought me, in fact." Pearl's name was still painful to say._

" _Then you'll do fine with it." He gave her a half smile, which might as well be a hearty laughter coming from Starrick._

" _Thank you, my friend. May the father of understanding guide you."_

" _May he guide us all."_

 

**Morning:**

Evie slept on the floor while she left her bed for Thorne, which some people could see as courtesy, but the redhead knew better. With Evie on the floor right besides her it was impossible to get out of the bed without stepping on the assassin and waking her. Plus, she also slept with her hidden blade firmly strapped to her arm and her sword cane in easy reach of her hand..

Now, that was what she called trust!

Not that the Fryes had any reason to trust her at all, and thinking back to the previous day, what Lucy had done was foolish at best, suicidal at worst, but she was never one for hesitation or second thoughts when something needed to be done. She knew she had to move fast if she wanted to have her research, her life's work, safe and away from Starrick, that was worth any risk for her.

She looked at the floor besides Miss Frye's bed, the assassin had her hidden-blade clad left arm over her stomach and was sleeping in her full assassin robes, or perhaps sleeping was a bit of an exaggeration. Lucy had slept, striped from her own weapons she had nothing to lose, so why not sleep? If the assassins wanted her dead, she would be by now.

"Miss Frye, I know you're not sleeping." Thorne said, out the blue. "We better go now, I am willing to bet that Starrick won't lose any time getting my research moved." Evie just opened her eyes and nodded.

They left the train before the crack of dawn, Jacob sound asleep in his sofa. Evie took her to the place that she and Henry used to escape the Kenway Manor.

"The sewer..." Lucy wrinkled her nose. "Why am I not surprised?" She commented going down the ladder carefully.

"Why should you be?" Evie said, jumping down from the manhole and landing on her feet without any problem. Well, aside from almost splashing Miss Thorne with some sewer water.

"You're right." The redhead continued, quite crossed. "I should never be surprised with the assassin's capacity to look for any opportunity to waddle in filth."

Unexpectedly for Lucy, Evie just laughed at that. For the assassin, Lucy's expression when she jumped into the swear amused her way too much for her to be able to do anything other than laugh at the redhead's grumpiness. There was great enjoyment in annoying the ex-Templar.

Evie took the lantern hanging from her belt and held it to light up the way. "Let's go, Miss Thorne." She called Lucy to her side and the two started to walk, shoulder in shoulder towards the secret passage.

"It's here." Evie indicated a wall and immediately started to look around with her eagle vision.

"How do we open it?" Thorne asked.

"Looking into it." The assassin continued to scan the area. "Found it!" she pulled what looked like a brick, but was just a panel hiding a lever.

Lucy raised an eyebrow; "How  **did**  you found it?" and in a moment of realization, her eyes went wide; "You have the sense, don't you?" she extended her gloved hands to touch Evie's face and used her thumbs to move the skin around the assassin's eyes, examining them under the dim light of the lantern. "I can't believe this… I heard some assassins had it, but I never met anyone or found any proof of it!" her brown eyes shone with a strange kind of passionate excitement. A bit like, well, probably Evie herself coming across a piece of assassin history or an artifact. Seeing that look in Lucy Thorne's face made her feel strange.

"Miss Thorne, we must be on the move now. You can do this latter." Evie said, moving her hands from her face; "Or rather, never. Never do this again." she added. Even she thought herself to be too serious about it, but Lucy Thorne sometimes had that effect on her; stirring strange feelings inside. To her surprise, Thorne blushed, embarrassed and, perhaps, a bit angry at herself.

"That was improper." she stated without truly apologizing. "Let's get this over with."

Activating her eagle vision once more, since she had lost her previous concentration due to Miss Thorne outburst; Evie scanned the room above them. It was empty.

She opened the passage under the carpet, taking them to the piano room. Looking around, Evie noticed something.

"It's empty." She said. "There is no one in the house."

Lucy swallowed dry at the thought of Starrick having already gotten to her research and ran to her office. Getting there she saw that about half of her books were still there, put in crates with the obvious aim of transporting them somewhere else. "They took a part of it, but not everything."

"How important is how they took?" the assassin asked.

"Everything is important!" Lucy said categorically. "It may not seem like it, but they all connect, like puzzle pieces, you need them all to solve the puzzle."

"Damn it!" Evie cursed. "Well, if I could make due with just one book, you'll have to with whatever we CAN carry."

"No!" Thorne responded. "I am not leaving anything behin-" she was cut by the sound of the front door opening.

Through the wall Evie saw several red silhouettes coming through the front door, at least they were in no rush it seemed. "Blighters, several of them."

"We can take them!" Lucy unsheathed her dagger.

"They'll probably take this to the same place they took the rest of your research."

"Which will be right into Crawford's hands!" Lucy pointed out.

"Eventually, but not yet. They are blighters, Starrick would never allow himself to be seen in their presence, they are just the muscle."

Lucy asked herself how she never noticed that. There were blighters working directly under her, Roth obviously, Ferris and even Pearl the rare times she requested it, but she never saw them with Starrick, she never paid attention. "What do you suggest then, Miss Frye?" Thorne asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Evie smiled at her and put one finger over her own lips quietly telling the redhead to be silent, before pulling Lucy close to her and hiding behind the curtains of a wardrobe with the redhead. It was dark and crammed, Lucy could feel Evie's breath on the back of her neck and her hand was still around her waist.

"We wait till they take the last box." Evie whispered in a low, breathy voice, really close to Lucy's ear. "Then we follow them."

"Alright." Lucy responded, feeling the hairs on her nape standing up, goosebumps going all over her body and desperately trying to ignore it all. Miss Frye, mercifully didn't seem to notice, What Thorne didn't know, was that Evie was dealing with the sinking realization of how close Thorne was, herself. That was that strange sensation again, the one that she wish she could forget.

Despite their thoughts, or maybe because of them, both stayed quiet, trying to concentrate on the outside. That was when the blighters reached her office in the upper floors and started to remove the crates. Their arrival was a blessing for both; An excuse to think of anything other than the intrusive thoughts that were almost taking over.

"What happened to Miss Thorne?" asked one of the female blighter. Evie felt Lucy tense in her arms, just then realizing she still had the ex-templar by the waist and that now she couldn't let go.

"Dunno." responded a male one "The boss got called to see Mr. Starrick to talk about that. For now they just want us to move these."

"The boss?" asked the female voice. "Nora?"

"Nah, the big boss; Mr. Roth!" Evie saw Lucy grimace at that, her eyebrows lowering in a deep worried "v" shape.

"Oh, this must be serious."

"Yeah, yeah, shut your gob and help me here, will ya?"

\--

Crawford Starrick was not happy. Sitting back on his chair he played with his knife, deep in thought. Both his butler and valet where men he trusted, men that worked for him their whole life. His valet being the son of his father's valet, a man he grew up with. His butler once took care of him as an infant, a loyal servants for years.

Also the only two present as he dictated that letter.

Now he was forced to get someone he really hated dealing with involved.

That was where Maxwell Roth came in;

"Crawford my dear, you called?"

He usually hated when Roth called him that, but fortunately they were alone.

"Mr. Roth. Take a sit."

"So cold!" Max said, sitting in the chair and crossing his legs with an ankle over his knee. "What do you wish from me?"

"Miss Thorne has betrayed the Order." He said simply. "I already ordered all the templar guards to keep an eye out for her, I want your blighters doing the same."

"Miss Thorne?" Roth asked, shocked in a most theatrical manner. "What an an unexpected turn in the plot. I wonder what you did to warrant it I wonder?"

"She has with her a necklace that I want recovered" Starrick continued, ignoring what Roth said, that man had no sense of decorum "and her, I want dead, as soon as possible."

"How dramatic!" Roth put his hand over his chest in fake shock! "Consider it done!" He stood up in a jump to leave.

"Maxwell!" Starrick called. "As soon as possible doesn't mean you can blow up an entire building just to kill her." He pointed out. "I got my hunters after her already, information is what I want the most from you. Inform the templar guard of any sightings. Are we clear?"

"Crystal!" The actor said in the same serious tone. "You're no fun, Rick!" Roth gave a mock sigh. "Still, I am at your order!" and with a bow, he left.

\--

"They're done." The assassin said after about half an hour of some really uncomfortable hiding. They came out of the closet and sneaked after the blighters as they loaded the last trunk into a transport carriage.

"Careful!" The templar guard that seemingly lead the operation told the men securing the crates. "You two! Stay here and keep guard." He told to two big burly blighters. They nodded and stayed put at the entrance.

"We must follow them." The assassin said.

"Yes, I can see that!" Lucy responded impatiently. "We need to get rid of them first."

Evie rolled her eyes. "At my signal you run between the two of them and go get that carriage," she pointed at a carriage at the other side of the street. It was a bit distant, but she was sure Lucy could reach it just in time. "I'll get rid of them."

The redhead looked at her like she was mad: "Run between them?"

"Trust me!" Evie said. "Go!"

With the signal given Lucy ran; without giving the answer she wanted, having time to ponder why she was taking orders from Evie Frye or even why 'trust me' was a good argument coming from her. Yet, she slipped by the two guards and sped to the carriage. She jumped in, getting the reigns and starting to drive just in time to see Evie take both out in one fluid motion and move on to catch the speeding carriage without losing momentum.

"Impressive, Miss Frye!" Lucy said when the assassin came to sit beside her.

"Keep your distance." Was the only response.

"I know how to do this. I did managed to tail you, didn't I?" The redhead said with a cynical smile.

Evie raised an eyebrow; "When?"

Lucy grinned. "To Saint Paul's, when I got the key."

"Oh, you mean, when you stole it from me!" The assassin rebuffed, quite angry at that grin.

"You cut it out of your neck yourself if I remember correctly." The ex-templar countered.

"You got my neck hanging over sharp glass!"

"I did cordially invited to you to come with me as well." Lucy quipped.

"I don't usually follow in the footsteps of people foolish enough to just charge into someone standing in front of a window!" Evie replied with a sarcastic grin, that made Lucy frown.

"I thought I had a chance, since you just barely seemed able to dodge my attacks." She let out a sarcastic snort. "You can't dodge bullets, however." Lucy sneaked a look to Evie's inner thigh, exactly where she shot her.

The assassin thought of responding, but instead took a deep breath and just let out a frustrated sigh; "Arguing like children is pointless."

Lucy stiffen a laughter. "Especially when one realizes they had been bested."

"And who-" Evie, noticed that the corners of her mouth were still upturned and swallowed her words. "Just drive."

 

**Afternoon:**

"Well guarded." Evie observed. They tailed the blighters and the templar guard to a warehouse in Whitechapel that had high walls all around, but it was the fact that it was right by the train station, where one of Starrick's trains waited, that was the most worrying part. "I need a bird's eye point of view. Wait here."

"Where are you going?"

The assassin looked up; "I can get a better look from the roof." She then looked at Lucy. "Want to come with me?"

"I don't think I can. I never saw the necessity to run around rooftops like some primate as a part of my trainiAAAAHHHH!" She screamed as Evie suddenly grabbed her by the waist and brought the two of them up using a lift. A confused blighter run towards the place to investigate the scream, but by the time he got there, they were already gone to the top and all he found was a pile of wood that was the counter-weight.

Atop the building, Lucy was shocked and she looked like she was about to scream in anger, but her mouth was covered by the assassin's gloved finger.

"Shhh, quiet now Miss Thorne, I need to concentrate on this." Evie smiled at her and perched herself on the border, observing the warehouse. Lucy exhaled, but decided to let it pass, after all, she did got the best on the assassin the last time. "I think I see who is in charge. I need to approach more to hear what they are saying." Evie turned to her. "Stay here and don't get detected." Turning back to the warehouse she used her rope launcher and crossed over to the other side, landing on the roof like a cat, moving to swiftly take down two snipers. One, standing more than 40 meters from her, was taken down with a well aimed throwing knife and the closer one, with her hidden blade, that done, Evie move silently inside without arousing any suspicion.

Lucy observed her from afar. It was the second time that day she could observed the assassin work and the first time she could observe it calmly. No wonder the assassins, despite being traditionally smaller and less interested in holding political power than the templars, could still go toe to toe with them. Their training made them into stealthy predators; fast, strong, silent, deadly and precise, thought, she guessed that Evie was probably more so than her brother in all of those, but strength.

Even under the layers of clothing she could see the effect of said training on the master assassin's body, squared back, strong shoulders, perfect posture and earlier that same day, while mocking the fact she managed to shoot Miss Frye in the leg, she also noticed the assassin's thigh was rather strong, muscles showing through the thick fabric of her trousers. Suddenly, her mind was trying to wonder off with that thought, but instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, decided to not let that kind of foolishness take her mind.

After a few minutes, Evie came back, crossing the same the way she did before.

"I think they have all of your research there." She said, as soon as she landed. "According to the schedule, they'll transport everything tonight to one of Starrick's offices in-"

"Westminster." Lucy finished and Evie nodded. "I imagined that. He has a secret installation there where he keeps most of my achieved researches and Templar documents." She looked at Evie seriously. "We must recover my research immediately, before they have the opportunity."

"There are too many of them." Evie put her hand under her chin. "We need a plan."

"Are they going to transport it by train?"

"Right to Victoria station, there is no information how they'll go by from there."

"There is nowhere to go from there, he'll probably use one of the secret passages directly from there. He has many of them in The Strand and Westminster, but The Strand is not as safe for him as it used to be."

Evie raised an eyebrow "How so?

"Roth has been acting up lately." Lucy put both hands behind her back, standing in her usual fashion. "He does it from time to time, blows up a factory, a brewery there, a bunch of workers die, he crowns himself the king of chaos and we all have to work to make things get back on track."

"That doesn't make any sense." Evie stated. "That Blighter said-"

"Starrick will most likely tell him to kill me." She let out a heavy breath. "You can always count on Roth to kill someone, besides, it makes it look like he isn't aware of Roth's shenanigans." The ex-templar sighed. "I never quite understood why he kept that manic in our ranks. He is nothing, but an incitator of chaos. The order should guide humanity and mold the future, not… Well, doesn't matter anymore."

The assassin was suddenly reminded of the letter that her brother received inviting him for dinner and help but ask: "Can't Starrick just get rid of Roth?"

"He would love to, but if it was hard before a certain family" and at this she pointedly looked at Evie "moved into town and started to take away the power from the Blighters, now is impossible. With you and Mr. Frye around, Roth has to stay exactly where he is."

"Worked in our favour." The assassin pointed out, nudging her lightly in the arm.

"In the end, indeed." Lucy admitted. "Well, Miss Frye, you mentioned a plan. What do you have in mind?"

"You're quite the collector, Miss Thorne, that I have to admit." She repeated herself. "There is too much to be able to be transported by any other means than by train. Therefore that's what we'll have to do; steal the train, or at least the wagons that contain your things."

"Starrick will notice that." Thorne pointed out.

"I'll talk to the Rooks to create a distraction on Victoria station to buy us time. Westminster is not ours yet, but the rooks are well trained." She frowned her brow in concentration. "I'll also have to convince the conductor of our tran and… Damn it." She took a deep breath and looked into her pocket watch. "I have just about eight hours to coordinate all of this. I should talk to Henry."

"Henry?"

"I mean, Mr. Green!" Evie's face was serious, but blushed deeply.

Lucy noticed that and raised an eyebrow: "I meant I have no idea who that is."

"Oh..." Evie said, her cheeks even redder. "He is the leader of the Assassin Bureau of London."

"The Ghost?"

"Some people call him that."

"Not you though, you call him, Henry." Thorne said, her tone a bit more mocking and even she intended it.

"I haven't told him about you yet!" The assassin cut in suddenly. "This sounds as good of a moment as any." She took a deep breath. "Let's go."

\--

Jacob put an "x" over Twopenny on their assassination wall. Looking upon his victims, he found himself staring at Pearl Attaway's picture, crimson "X" over the black and white picture. He did liked her, more than she could ever know now, which was why discovering her treason hurt even more.

He didn't wanted to think much of it. Jacob wasn't the type to think much about things that upset him.

"Ah, Mr. Frye." Henry came in from Evie's wagon. "Do you know where Miss Frye is?"

"Hello for you too Greenie!" Jacob responded, slightly crossed. "She is probably out with Lucy Thorne, trying to get her research back. They left pretty early this morning." The assassin opened the newspaper and started reading it.

Mr Green stared at him in shock for a few seconds: "E-excuse me… I must have heard wrong. Could you repeat what you just said?"

"About Evie?" He looked up, seeing Henry's concerned face.

"Yes."

Mr Frye looked up, as if thinking, he pouted a bit: "They left pretty early this morning…?"

"No. Before that." Said Henry realizing what he was doing.

Jacob grinned: "Hello for you too Greenie?"

"Mr Frye..." Henry frowned.

"Trying to get her research back!?" Said the other with a big smile.

"ABOUT LUCY THORNE!"

Jacob let out a laughter: "I KNOW!" He took a deep mirthful breath: "Starrick tried to kill her, she came to ask our help, Evie and her have gone to recover her research before Starrick gets to it."

"Alone?" Asked Henry.

"Yes."

"You let Evie go out alone with a woman that shot her in the leg?" Henry's voice came out uncharacteristically high pitched in that.

Jacob looked around thoughtful. "I am pretty sure she doesn't have a gun this time."

"JAC- MR. FRYE!" He took a deep breath. "Don't you worry about your sister's safety at all?"

"Evie hasn't needed protection since she was eight." was the slightly annoyed answer. As if it wasn't enough that Henry was spending more time with his twin sister than him he now wanted to doubt how much he cared about her? Greeny had no idea!

"One would think that leaving her alone with a mortal enemy of her's would still elicit more of a response!" Henry was running his mouth, and he knew it, but his worry was genuine, he had no idea if Evie had taken the nap he suggested her to, if she was in fit form to take the templar if the whole thing was a trap. All he could think was how many friends he lost to the templars and how much it would hurt to lose her as well, but it wasn't like Jacob could know that.

The gang leader's brows frowned deeply and he shot Henry a furious look, for some reason, he couldn't hold it back the sudden anger that came over him; "YOUR response is a bit too much, don't you think? Far more than you have to, she is NOTHING of yours," after the scream, he gave a sarcastic grin, but his eyes were still angry "doesn't matter how much you want to, so BACK OFF, HENRY!"

The Bureau leader blushed at the accusation, but had nothing he could say back. He did cared about Evie, a lot in fact, he just had no idea Jacob was that aware of or angry at it. What right he had to it anyway? Evie was a grown woman, among assassins there was never some archaic ideal that Jacob was her keeper or something along those lines, didn't matter what society dictated. Thinking of that, made him angry, but being far more in control of himself, all that Henry did was frown as well. "I'll go look for her. Make sure she is alright."

"Oh yeah!" Jacob made a grand sarcastic gesture. "Evie so needs your protection! Because you know, if there is something one of the best fighters in the Brotherhood needs is an assassin so useless, the first time I've met him he was running and hiding from the Whitechapel Blighters!"

"Jacob!" Evie came in, followed by Thorne who just stood back. "What is going on?"

Her twin said nothing, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair, putting it back on and turning his back on her, while she still looked at him. There was thick tension in the air, as Evie kept staring at her brother, unblinking.

Henry took a deep breath, deciding he had to say something to break that unbreathable atmosphere: "Mr Frye was telling me about your new" he looked for the right word "acquaintance?"

"Ally, Mr Green." Thorne cut in, getting away from the twins and approached Henry, extending her hand. "Finally meeting you is-" and now it was her turn to look for the right word, but couldn't think of anything besides "something."

He took her hand and bowed his head in acknowledgement, but not too much, as if he feared lowering his guard around her. That whole thing was about as awkward of an introduction as it sounded, maybe it was due to Henry not trusting the ex-templar at all, maybe the tension due to the fact Evie was still staring a hole in the back Jacob's head, who wouldn't look at her.

Lucy found herself wondering how Jacob's hat wasn't starting to caught on fire.

She cleaned her throat "Miss Frye, don't we have something plan?"

"Yes, we do." Evie finally, albeit slowly, stopped staring at her brother.

"Well good luck with that, I am going out." The gang leader said suddenly and jumped out of the train, ignoring Evie calling his name.

The master assassin let out a frustrated sigh. "He is impossible." She turned to Lucy and Henry; "Let's start planning."

 

**Evening:**

Jacob would found himself thinking of Pearl sometimes, of their moments together and things of them no one knew about and he would never tell because now they went from pleasurable to painful, so he would rather not, but it seemed like good memories turning bad and painful was a bit of of a constant on his life all of sudden. From Pearl's kisses to running over rooftops in Crawley with his sister, all were now unpleasant reminders of how much things changed.

His thoughts were unimaginable for anyone who could see his mildly relaxed expression, from time to time smiling to one or another person while walking down the street that evening, as he was not only an assassin still, but also trying to make his mood better.

Contrary to what he told Evie, he was, in fact, going to the Alhambra to see what Maxwell Roth wanted with him. Now, Mr Frye was no fool, despite what others may want to believe about him, so he was perfectly well aware of the fact he could be walking into either a trap or the strangest meeting of his life and the thought of both made his blood pump! That was the main reason why he was going for it, because the meeting would be interesting and the trap would be fun! He was sure he could, escape from it alone, without Evie's help, which was something that he wanted to believe he was proud of feeling he could.

He had to believe it, it made the distance more bearable.

Jacob wouldn't tell anyone this, but he felt safe with Evie having his back and wondered if she wouldn't catch up with Pearl's lie before it hurt him as it did or foresee that killing Elliotson could result in, well, Clara and other people almost dying, he shuttered at the thought, Jacob wouldn't mind that his irresponsibility would cause many bad things, but resulting on an innocent dying, worst yet, a child, made him feel truly regretful.

Still, chances where Evie would just become more distant now. With Thorne and her research into the supposedly amazing pieces of Eden, plus Greenie taking any chance to try and impress her through the same means, chances were, he and his sister would spend even less time together.

It didn't matter. He had his gang, his Rooks, he was the one actually doing something, and frankly, he rather not deal with Lucy Thorne at all and good luck for her dealing with Evie and Henry and their annoying courting as well, hell, he hoped she would also try to have his sister's heart. He chuckled at the amusingly absurd thought.

Feeling a bit better, he knocked at the front door of the Alhambra.

\--

The plan was laid and the players took their place. Quietly they observed as Lucy's entire research was loaded into the train, two full wagons of books, artifacts, research notes, maps, charts, among some other things. The Train had six wagons total, the two in the middle had Lucy's research and two watchmen, the two in the front and the two in the back where armored and tightly packed with guards.

"We're going to have to get rid of the two wagons full of guards in the back first." Evie told Henry.

"Agreed. We have very little time till we get to Waterloo station." He responded, rubbing his chin. "I guess we'll need something to hold it back, leave it in this station."

"We could use the chain from one of the cranes they use for cargo transport." Evie suggested. "We let the chain run free until it ends to buy us time to get it decoupled."

"I can do that. Sneak in and use the chain." Henry volunteered.

"Thank you." She gave him a smile that in Thorne's eyes looked very out of place in her face, which Miss Frye must have noticed since she stopped smiled and cleared her throat before continuing; "Well, they'll have to be left behind here, but I'll have to take the watchmen out so they won't bring the men out of the armored car."

"Indeed. So you better take them out beforehand." He said with a gentle smile.

Lucy rubbed her eyes. It was like that the whole day! Those two where such sickeningly perfect couple, they were one step away from completing each other's sentences.

Henry cleared his throat and started; "I can do that, but it I'll have to be-"

"-silent and not the other notice me before the time." Evie finished.

The redhead rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger once again, they were giving her a headache, she would give anything for a good cup of tea now.

Or some laudanum.

The plan was put in motion and the first move was having Henry approach the the last card and attach a chain to it, from that point on everything would have to run on time. The chain would only work to help stop the two cars after decoupled, so Evie had to run to take down both watchmen before they could warn the others, then separate the two middle cards with Lucy's books before they reach Waterloo and attach them to their train.

Miss Thorne's job in all of this was to be at Waterloo station, right at the crossing to change the direction so the middle wagons could be coupled with their train, all of this had to happen in Southwark, since it was a Rook controlled part of the city. The whole plan took a great amount of timing to be executed right with the minimum attention attracted to them as possible.

"We still have an hour." Evie said, looking at her pocket watch.

"I'll go get the chain in place." Henry said.

"Good," Evie told Henry, and then looked at Lucy; "Miss Thorne, you better go and get into position."

Lucy nodded and left, glad to do so.

Unfortunately things were not to go according to plan, as Thorne found out, when as soon as she left she started being followed by templar guards in carriages.

"Great!" She thought with sarcasm. She whipped the horses into a gallop as the guards tried to catch up with her. They pulled out their guns and started shooting, but Lucy was able to keep her head down and avoid the first few shots. Seeing a corner she threw her the horses in tight turn into an intersection and throw a smoke bomb at she entered it, trying to lose them. The plan worked, but things only seemed well for the few seconds it took her toe noticed that the train was also out of the station and accelerating.

Either the whole thing was a trap or they they simply decided to bring the train in earlier, either way, she could only hope Mr. Green and Miss Frye managed to do their part.

Those hopes were soon dashed when she saw Henry hanging to the train by dear life, at the same time as bulled passed buzzing right besides her head.

Running out of patience, Lucy took Starrick's revolver from the holster inside her coat, shooting at the templar guard.

"EVIE!" She heard Henry scream, and looking at Miss Frye she saw she was about to be tackled by one of those hulking types that seemed uncommonly common in both Londonian gangs. Lucy aimed her revolver with care and shoot twice, managing to hit the man in the arm and back, making him an easy take down for Evie, who looked at her surprised when she saw who shot him, but soon went back to killing the guards that came for her.

Talking of guards, the templar guards were still hot on her heels, shooting at her and missing since she was doing her best to keep out her head low and carriage racing, returning fire from time to time, but even with her best efforts, one of them was finally able to reach her side.

It was a split second, he pulled his revolver and she aimed her's, two shots were fired,one missed and hit a hat, the other was spot on and blew a temple. Lucy's hat fell in the back of the carriage, at the time the templar guard, with one single bullet to the temple fell and got ran over by own carriage. The redhead grinned, it was a lucky revolver after all.

She saw the other carriage approaching on the other side, this time, going for a more pragmatic route, she shot the horse, propelling the driver and his companion in the air, the grin became a loud open mouth laughter from her. She had to admit, that excitement, the threat of death, the galloping horses, the carriage wheels shooting sparks from the friction in the cobbler when she made a tight turn, bullets flying; It was fun! As much as Lucy was a scholar, there was something to this action and excitement she couldn't deny appealed to her greatly.

The redhead let out a scream as she whipped the horses once more, still aware that she needed to reach the rail crossing before the train did, but once again, she heard Mr. Green scream, when the bar that he was holding himself to snapped and he fell, out of the rail bridge, but as he was about to be smashed against the cobblestones of the street he instead landed into Lucy's carriage, that managed to reach him right in the last second.

"Miss Thorne?" He said, surprised. "Thank you."

"Thank me if we survive this! I am out of bullets," Lucy said, handing him the revolver "recharge it, now!" she ordered, giving him also her cartridge belt, and Henry compiled without any questions.

There was a loud whistle from the train and both Lucy and Henry looked up, to see Evie gesture them to move on with the plan.

"Miss Thorne, we need to reach the crossing, before the train does." Henry said, handing her her fully charged revolver back.

"I am aware of that, Green." Lucy went back to her whipping, not sparing the poor horses at all. "What happened up there?"

"The train started leaving an hour earlier, just a few moments after you left." He explained. "There was some sort of problem with a cargo in another station" Henry looked at her "in The Strand."

"Roth..." she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course."

"I am worried about Miss Frye." The Ghost admitted.

"She'll be fine, now that she doesn't have to protect you as well!" Was the ironic response of the ex-templar. Henry crooked an eyebrow but said nothing, leaving Lucy to her task.

The train started to slow down before entering the station and that gave Lucy the advantage she needed to get ahead of it and change the rail crossing just in time to have the two wagons coupled with the Frye's train and with her life's work finally secure, Lucy could relax once again.

 

**Night:**

"Agnes, once again, I am sorry..." Evie apologized for about the seventh time that night.

"Ack, Miss Evie, it's alright!" Agnes waved it off. "Besides, it's almost done already."

Their train was stopped at the station it usually went to have changes made to it, for a bit of an emergency reform. Far from the usual professionals, this time it was just Agnes and Nigel directing a bunch of rooks, all ex-train workers that fallen in hard times and had to seek out the life among the gangs, and somewhat glad to put their experience to good work.

The objective was to make the last two stolen wagons seemingless like the rest of the train and to help on that they not only had Agnes directing everything but also called a few favors with their favorite New Yorker.

" _You Frye's are full of surprises."_  Was what Ned said when Evie called on him to help that afternoon.  _"Consider it done. I'll be waiting at the station."_

"How are things coming along?" She asked Ned.

"Almost done." He pointed at the last bit of the roof being affixed. The whole thing looked great, just as Ned promised. "Getting the parts you needed in such a short notice was quite a bit of work," Ned admitted "but it was worth it to help my dear friends." He patted her on the shoulder.

"Dear friends who are now in your debt." Evie side eyed him, but smiled none the less.

Ned chuckled at that, his shoulders giving a shrug of resignation; "Well, miss Frye, one can never have too many favors owed to them." He winked at her. "There is only one problem."

Evie raised her eyebrows, worried: "What?"

"Your new friend wouldn't let us do anything on the inside." Ned gestured. "So that still looks all the same."

"Oh... That's alright, we can leave that for another day. Everybody was worked more than enough for one night." She covered her yawn with her fist. "Sorry."

"Have a good night of sleep, Miss Frye." Ned said, patting her in the back lightly. "We are done here!" He screamed to the Rooks. "Great job, everybody."

"Thank you all, for you help! You may go now, except for those who are on guard duty!" Evie added and the men working, came down from the wagons, the ones leaving bidding miss Frye a good night. "Tell the engine driver to get us moving." She told Nigel as soon as everybody took their place and herself got on the train. "Good bye, Ned!" She waved at him as the train left.

"Don't forget you owe me one now!" He screamed at her, with a smile and waved.

She smiled back at him, slightly worried and went inside. Lucy was concentrated on getting her things in order, moving books and papers around with an exasperated expression. Evie stopped at the passage frame, crossing her arms and legs, letting her body rest against the frame and observed redhead didn't even seem to notice her presence or even that the train was now moving, so Evie took time to observe her.

She had her leather coat out, hanging on the back of a chair and the sleeves of her white shirt were pulled back over her pale arms, her cravat was undone and the shirt had a few open buttons in the front, the only thing she still wore to bear the templar cross was her silver square medallion. Her hair was down and it reached almost to the end of her spine, going down her back in red waves, a bit longer than Evie expected, actually and It framed her face very well.

Her very stressed face.

"Found everything in order, Miss Thorne?"

Lucy shot her an angry look from the side of her eye. "Funny!" she responded exasperated. "I'll take days to put all of this in order," she sighed "but at least we recovered everything."

"This is more than I expected." Evie said, moving from her position and looking around. "Two whole wagons. I thought that crate Jacob and I've stolen was all of it."

The let out an amused exhale. "That wasn't even all of my research on the shroud." She looked at her. "I take only the essentials out."

"I thought everything was part of the puzzle." The assassin said with irony and picked up a book with the symbol of the brotherhood in front of it. "How did you came across all of this?"

"Everywhere really;" She looked around. "At first it was mostly all over Europe, anywhere I could go, I met Starrick in auction in Barcelona. He recruited me and with Templar funding I was able to do even more. I got some from the Americas; The United States, Mexico, Brazil, had a really bad run in with the Brotherhood in Rio de Janeiro." Lucy winced that that memory and moved a few books, putting them in order and improvised shelf.

"Hm." It was clear the other woman didn't wanted to talk about that, so Evie decided to drop it. "Want some help?"

"No, thank you miss Frye." She turned her back to Evie. "I have a very particular way to go about this. If I don't get my research back my way, I won't be able to find anything." She looked at Evie over her shoulder, half of her face covered by her red hair, that she threw behind her shoulder in an attractive gesture. "Don't worry, I'll have everything sorted out tonight and soon enough we'll be able to start working."

Evie nodded, barely aware of what she said, the auburn waves proving themselves a bit of a distraction. She shook her head confused at what was going through her own mind. "Ugh, I am so tired." Was the excuse she gave more to herself than to Miss Thorne. She started undoing her hair. "I'll be at my wagon."

"What, you're going to leave me here alone with all of this?" Lucy said with irony, turning to see the assassin slowly undoing her braid. She cleared her throat and looked away.

"You are not our prisoner Miss Thorne." Evie said, running her fingers through her hair to let a bit of the fresh air get to her roots.

"The assassins don't make prisoners." The words in her mouth where a quote directly from Starrick, but her mind wasn't quite on it, since as she spoke she sneaked a peek at Miss Frye that was now moving her neck around, trying to relax the sore muscles.

Lucy grinded her teeth and pressed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. Was this some sort of ridiculous test?

"Are you sure you don't prefer to do this tomorrow, Miss Thorne?" Evie asked, looking down at her pocket watch. "You look terribly tired, it's almost one in the morning." The assassin looked at her, pocketing her watch. "We both need some sleep and the train will probably stay here the whole night. We have Rooks on guard and we are just a few wagons away from this. Come on, let's go to bed."

Lucy's head shot up at that, but soon what she meant downed on her and she rubbed her eyes. Yes, the lack of sleep was definitely getting to her. She took a deep breath. "You're probably right, Miss Frye." She admitted.

"Good! Let's go to my wagon."

"You can have the bed." Lucy offered, maybe sleep made her a bit more generous, maybe she knew she could be laid on a bed of nails she wouldn't care.

"My bed is all yours." Evie said with a bit of a grin.

Deep down, Thorne really wished she would stop saying things like that, but all she did was nod in agreement as both women left for what was for now, their shared wagon.

(tbc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first of all, thanks to everybody who read this, both, here ff.net or my personal tumblr! All comments, likes, kudos, favs, follows, reblogs, all EVERYTHING, mean a lot to me.
> 
> This chapter is much longer than the previous one, much, much longer, and while editing I ended up adding more to it than taking. I don't think it's perfect, my English is kinda wonky in certain points, I don't know if I managed to get everybody's voices and mannerisms right, but I am doing my best.
> 
> At most I hope I this was at least entertaining. I had fun writing, I hope you have fun reading.
> 
> As always, comments, critiques and etc., are all very welcome.


	3. All The Wrong Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter!; Jacob remembers Miss Attaway, Ned worries about Jacob's dealings with Roth, sexual tensions between Miss Frye and Miss Thorne starts to heat up, someone uses Henry's actual name AND THE TITTLE STARTS TO MAKE SENSE!!!

**Chapter 3 - All The Wrong Places**

  _Long fingers caressing his hair, nails massaging his scalp, lips brushing against the side of his neck, their corners curving up as a smile comes to his lover’s lips. The things you feel with your eyes closed, sensations are always so much stronger than sounds or images._

_Jacob felt her hand caress his scruffy jaw gently, make it’s way down his neck to the buttons of his shirt to open them and go inside, playing with the hairs on his chest. Her lips kissed his cheek, slow and sweet, again, and again, getting closer to his lips. His strong arms pulled her closer, enlacing her waist and pressing her against his chest, squeezing her body in._

_He kissed her lips and all other sensations muted, the gentle rocking of the carriage all, but gone as their mouths opened to deepen the kiss, one hand flying to the back of her neck to hold her in place as their heads moved, trying to enjoy all they could from each other’s lips. It felt like minutes, till she pulled away, breathless._

_“Jacob...” she whispered._

_He loved Pearl’s voice so much._

  **Morning:**

“Jacob?” A difference voice called, a slightly higher, but also heavier one. “Jacob!”

The gang leader fell from the sofa where he was sleeping with a thud, jumping to stand up so fast, his head spun and he had to sit back down, now feeling a bit queasy.

What a nice way to start your day.

“Here, this will wake you up.” Ned said, giving him a cup with some steaming liquid.

Jacob took a sniff out of it; “This is not tea.” He scrunched his nose.

“It’s coffee.” Ned shrugged and sat in front of him, crossing his legs, ankle over knee.

Jacob took a sip and his eyebrows shot up. It was quite good, just the right amount of sugar, warm, quite nice. The night before coming back to him. He remembered meeting Wynert at The Strand and the two going out for drinks when a few Blighters came in.

“What happened last night?” Frye asked.

“Nothing much.” Ned shrugged. “You got into a fight with a few Blighters, a few of the Rooks were around, the whole thing turned into an all out brawl.” He calmly took a sip from his coffee.

“That does sound like a normal sunday night for me.” Jacob grinned.

Ned threw his head back and laughed. “I guessed so.”

“Did I win?” Frye asked.

“You’re alive aren’t you?” Ned gave him a lopsided grin. “I sent a wire to your sister warning her you slept here.”

“I don’t think she would care.” Jacob responded, putting his hand on the back of his neck.

”I thought it was strange that you weren’t there last night.“ The New Yorker said leaning back on his chair.

“Last night?”

“Yup. Apparently your sister and her redheaded friend acquired a pair of brand new wagons for your train.” Ned grinned and made a gesture of approval with his hand. “Gorgeous. I thought your train couldn’t get any better.”

Jacob forced a smile back, but the news actually made him feel even worst. Evie had stolen two full wagon trains and did not called on him to help at all? That was practically his thing! And why even steal two whole wagons, it didn’t made any sense. He shook his head and huffed loudly, remembering that he didn’t know at all. After killing Twopenny he had that stupid fight with Henry and then went to have his “dinner” with Maxwell Roth. “Did they said why they stole the wagons.”

Ned made a hands of gesture “They didn’t say and I didn’t ask.” He responded, shaking his head. “Rules of the business, you never go too far if you ask too many questions.”

The other man snorted a laughter. “Thanks for letting me sleep in your sofa, Mate.” He stood up stretching his muscles, he could see himself reflected in Ned’s glasses. “I better go now.”

“Whatever Frye.” Ned waved him off, standing up. “Say hi to Miss Frye for me and that friend of her’s too.” He winked.

“Thorne?” Jacob smiled, putting his coat and hat on. “Never picked you for someone with a thing for redheads.”

Ned let out a chuckle. “No, I am just being a gentleman.” He gave Jacob a look as he was smoothing his clothes while looking at his reflexion in the window of the flat and when he spoke again, his voice was strangely soft; “Besides, my tastes are--” Ned took a deep breath and spoke in his normal voice again. “Well, we better go both of us. I have my business to attend and you have to go home.” He turned his back on Jacob to pick up his keys. “Come with me, so I can lock my--” and as he turned around he saw Jacob coming out through the window.

“Thanks again, mate!!” Jacob said from the outside and after a last friendly hand wave, he started to scale the building.

Ned shook his head and locked the window before leaving.

 --

 The rocking of the train wagon the whole night long was strangely soothing, but the loud train whistle was not. Miss Thorne let out a whine when she heard it, pulling the covers over her face and burrowing herself under them.

“Ah, Miss Thorne, you’re awake.” She recognized the voice of the master assassin immediately and uncovered her face to look at her. “Did you slept well?”

Evie was sitting on her chair, a cup of tea in one hand and a unopened newspaper in the other. The mess of mantles and pillow she used to sleep on the floor were neatly organized, folded and put away in their place, she was perfectly dressed, albeit, in a different outfit than the day before and with her hair was still down, falling over her shoulders. As if by a cruel joke on God’s part, the sky opened, just so the sun would reflect in her brown hair with a luminous golden glow... Lucy groaned, it was too early for that, so she just rubbed her eyes and asked;  “What time is it?”

The assassin pulled out her pocket watch. “Ten thirty.” she put her clock away; “I have good news however; Henry got a few book cases, a few chairs and an office table to put in the last two wagon.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Evie nodded, then opened the newspaper, which was almost immediately followed by an exasperated sigh.

“Something wrong?” Thorne asked and Evie showed her the front page, it was a giant headline about Twopenny’s death and the pound hanging by a tread. Lucy wanted to laugh:

_“Typical of the assassins,”_ she thought with irony _“not considering the consequences of their actions and causing chaos in their foolish search for freedom.”_ Fortunately she was able to hold herself back from actually saying anything. Miss Frye looked rather distraught by the whole thing herself already. Perhaps that assassin in particular wasn’t so bad. In fact, the ex-templar was finding that her fondness for the intelligent young woman only grew, Before when they were enemies, there was just some admiration for her qualities, but now...

Lucy groaned stretching herself, pushing her thoughts away, but still distracted.

During the night her shirt rode up, as shirts tend to do and when she stretched the covers slowly moved down, exposing a bit of her body. She slept in her white shirt and underpants, looking down one thing occurred to her; she needed clothes. She turned her head, towards Evie, sleepiness making her movements slow enough so the assassin could pretend she was reading the newspaper instead of observing her.

“It’ll be impossible to get to the bank till that’s dealt with, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Miss Thorne.” Frye responded and Thorne let out a loud and long groan, rubbing her face with both hands, Evie chuckled behind her cup of tea “I’ll look into it soon enough and maybe have a little conversation with--”, but she was silenced by a loud thud on top of the wagon; “Speak of the devil...” Evie mumbled.

Jacob came through the door in front of where they kept their clothes: “We got two more wagons now, then? Neat!” He said and Evie moved quickly to where he was, closing the curtain that separated her bed area the rest of the wagon, to give Thorne some privacy. “Oh, sorry, I forgot this isn’t just you here anymore...” Jacob said, “Good morning, Miss Thorne!”

Lucy didn’t respond, but stood up, grumbling and started to get dressed.

Jacob grinned ready to make some quip about Miss Thorne to Evie, but seeing her, he decided not to do that. She had her arms crossed and was staring at him with quite a serious expression.

“What?‘ Jacob asked, without meeting her eyes and obviously uncomfortable, as people who are not feeling guilty often don’t. She said nothing and, as if letting out pressure, he sighed; “I slept on Ned’s sofa.” The gang leader admitted. “He told me he wired you.”

“He did. Why?”

“We met in The Strand, I invited him for some drinks, there was a bar fight… All and all, lots of fun!” He grinned widely. “Want me do your hair?” He asked suddenly, before she could do further inquiries.

It was an offer of peace, Jacob wasn’t given to saying he was sorry, (to be fair neither was Evie), but they knew what the other meant and she realized she would rather have that, than fighting. She sat down. with her back turned to him, he smiled and started to brush her hair.

On the other side of the curtain Lucy looked at her clothes and sighed at their tattered state as she put them on. “Too much excitement the last few days, I suppose” She thought, weighing her possibilities. She couldn’t go back home or even to her company, of course, she was certain that Starrick would keep guards there, waiting for her, but the assets were still in her name, as was her bank account, which, with Twopenny gone, she might actually have a chance to get in to get what she needed once Miss Frye sorted out things as she promised.

Not that Lucy had an idea of how she could possibly solve THAT problem in particular, but if she did, the redhead would count herself truly impressed.

After getting herself properly dressed she opened the curtain, meeting with the strangely domestic image of Jacob braiding his sister’s hair with a skill that could only be born out of practice. There was something about that that Lucy admired for a second till she looked at Mr. Frye’s profile under the light of the sun and for what was probably the first time since they’ve met, she truly looked at him.

She found him so strangely familiar, the hazel eyes, the squared jaw, when he looked at her to compliment her again, he flashed her a small smile and it hit her who he looked like. Instinctively, the tips of her fingers touched the scar on her lip.

“I said good morning, Miss Thorne!” Jacob said a third time, thought Lucy really didn’t heard the second.

“Good morning, Mr Frye.” She said finally.

He flashed her a grin “Are you quite alright? You seem distracted. Or are you just mesmerised by my handsomeness?”

“I hope you’re not a gamester, Mr. Frye.” Her tone was sarcastic, but she still shot him a stern look; “Now, if you both excuse me, I have a research to organize and revise.”

 --

  _She could hear the sound of her small feet hitting the cold rock steps as she pressed forwards and down alternatively, till the tunnel became dark and she considered going back, but decided to go on, further into the darkness, going for the light she saw at the bottom of the last set of stairs. Getting closer she could hear voices she couldn’t quite recognize at first and walked more quietly, trying to hear the conversation._

_“You were expecting one of the other two, didn’t you?” This voice sounded strange and ethereal, unnatural and it wasn’t just the echoes of the crypt._

_“I didn’t know what to expect.” This voice sounded normal, a deep womanly voice with a bit of welsh accent to it, a voice she knew. It was Miss Fairfax, her governess. What followed was forever engrained in her mind:_

_“In all fairness I can never remember if by this point you’ve all ever met Juno.” The unnatural voice said, as Lucy kept pressing forwards, quiet as a mouse. “My memory was never as good as Minerva’s, but I do believe Ratonhnhaké:ton did meet Juno by this point, or he should, if her plans are going as well as she hopes.”_

_“So you’re not Minerva?” Her governess asked, she saw the light and the passage, soon she would be able to see them both._

_“No.” The unnatural voice said, making her hesitate, she was shaking, but she pressed forwards._

_“And you’re not Juno.” It was a statement, the tone of her governess was quite known to her. She was so close._

_“No.” She heard the ethereal voice say._

_“Then who are you?” As Miss Fairfax spoke these words she came into view, dressed strangely, in clothes more fitting to a man, with a long overcoat with a hood attached to it. She was looking at something luminous in front of her;_

_“The Shadows of Prometheus usually know better than this, your Ezio met Minerva once Ratonhnhaké:ton met Juno, but I could not be that careless, I could not risk letting you know by means which she would discover my plans too soon. Can’t blame Minerva, she didn’t know. The wise can be so foolish.” The little girl hesitated just as about the figure was about to be revealed._

_“What are you talking about?” And now she pressed forwards and slowly the other figure, the unnatural figure with the unnatural voice came into view._

_“Minerva and Juno and a golden apple that neither of those two won in the end.” She was floating in the air, but even had she been on the floor, she would easily tower over the tall Miss Fairfax. The figure was see-through white, ethereal, unantaural. A ghost, and the realization made her paralyzed with fear; “Didn’t ever occurred to you to ask: Whatever happened to the fairest of them all?” The ghost then looked up at the stairs, at her, right at the scared little girl’s her face; “Do you know, Lucy?”_

_The little girl let out a loud scream and started running in the opposite direction of the figures._

_“MISS THORNE!” She heard Miss Fairfax call her, but she ignored and kept running in the darkness she slipped, falling face first into one of the steps, the last thing she remembered before losing consciousness was a sharp pain on her upper lip and the sound of Miss Fairfax running towards her._

 

**Afternoon:**

When Henry arrived at the train, Evie had left in the previous station in the City of London. She had sent a message through one of the rook urchins asking him to come to the train and keep an eye on Miss Thorne as she organized her research into place, so he went actually fully intended in helping her;

“I am perfectly fine, Mr. Green.” Lucy said when offered assistance. “I have my own method, if things do not fall perfectly into place I find myself completely lost.” She said, with a hollow tone of pleasantness to her voice.

“I could learn.” Henry suggested, which elicited a side eye from the ex-Templar.

“Why so keen on it, Mr. Green?” She asked, suspicious..

“I, well...” Henry cleared his throat. “It is both my duty taking in account you are our ally and you may also consider my way to show gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” Lucy turned to him. “For what exactly, Mr Green?”

“For saving my life yesterday, of course.” Henry explained. “If you haven’t maneuvered the carriage to catch me...”

“You would have hit the ground and broken a few bones at most.” She said. “You’re much too young to die from that.”

“Yes.” He said, but soon added; “Fallen on the middle of the streets, broken bones, surrounded by templar guards. Death would had been unavoidable and far more unpleasant, I feel, than dying due to the fall.” Henry made a painful expression thinking of it, but then smiled. It was a smile that was both calm and charming, a smile that made Thorne realize that if she was interested in men at all, she could easily fall for him.

_“No wonder Miss Frye did.”_ She thought with something between a grin and grimace. Involuntary, something she couldn’t quite understand.

“That’s sound logic, Mr. Green.” She admitted, her mouth turning to full grim. “Rather unexpected from an assassin in fact.” Lucy couldn’t help but add, but Henry’s smile at that, actually made her feel a strange fondness towards him. “Still there are other ways to express gratitude, than one that may potentially leave me even more at a loss than I am right now.”

“Since it doesn’t have to be helping you with your research, I can help some other way.” He put his hand on his chin thoughtfully. “Have you had any lunch?”

She hadn’t. In fact, it was about two in the afternoon and ever since she got into these wagons her mind had been fully concentrated on getting this research into place and the strange similarity between Mr Frye and the woman who saved her life when she was a child. Even without her saying anything, Henry just smiled.

“I see...” He said. “I’ll get something ready in a second Miss Thorne. I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you, Mr Green.”

 --

After the hectic few days with the sudden alliance with Lucy Thorne, stealing two whole wagons of a train and suddenly having all the information they need with the unexpected access to the whole of her research, sneaking into the counterfeiter's hideout was strangely relaxing for Evie.

It was an easy job, tail the suspects, steal the plates, burn the fake money, the whole thing was done is perfect timing without having to kill one person, even sneaking into the bank to give the plates back wasn’t that hard to do; knocking out the front guard and letting the people in, as it was their right, that left the other guards occupied enough with that, so all she needed was one smoke bomb to get by guard near the place where the plates were stored.

_“If only Jacob would be more responsible and thoughtful.”_ she thought, but then suddenly it occurred to her that had she succeeded in ending Lucy Thorne’s life a few days before, she now wouldn’t have access to everything they did, only what Henry and her could steal and that would not be as good.

Truth was the very thought of all that knowledge excited her greatly. Just the few things that she saw in the Kenway manor where more than enough to spark her imagination and she couldn’t wait to be able rummage through Miss Thorne’s collections.

Now Miss Thorne herself was another matter entirely. Her presence was something that Evie couldn’t yet figure if it was good or bad. She was intelligent of course, a better fighter than she had come to expect from the average templar, but those where surprises that spoke little for her character and that was relatively harder to figure out.

Evie remembered charging towards her in the Tower of London only to be shot in the leg she fell back, and as the guards were about to rush her, Thorne stopped them with one gesture and pointed her revolver at Evie herself.

_“You weren’t expecting that, were you Miss Frye?” she grinned, like a satisfied cat, her eyes lingered over Evie like she was a songbird she just injured; fallen on the floor, bleeding and helpless. “What a waste you are,” stated the templar “such potential squandered away with the assassins.”_

_“You only wish to have the shroud for your own power!” Evie talked back in an even tone, trying to think of a plan of escape._

_Lucy looked at her disgusted; “Not ours! Humanity’s! Can’t you see this for the good of everybody? What would YOU do with the shroud?” The templar snapped at her; “Keep it hidden away for the benefit of no one?” She spat in anger, but held herself back with a deep breath. “You have no idea of how powerful the shroud is.”_

_“Tell me then!” Evie said, staring her down, defiantly._

_Thorne’s eyes narrowed and she pulled back the hammer of the revolver, aiming it to the middle of Evie’s head. “No!” and as her finger moved to squeeze the trigger, Evie quickly moved her hand inside her coat and in a desperate and fast move, was able to throw a smoke bomb on the ground, she heard a second shot come out of the gun and buzz near her head, but fortunately missing it, so she used the ensuing confusion to activate her her eagle vision, find her way out and escape._

From that point on it was a bit of a blur, she was moved only by adrenaline and a desire to survive, escaping through the nearest window, doing a leap of faith into the night; no shrould, no key and behind the still living Lucy Thorne, the only thing she could save that night was her own life.

Now a woman that just a few days ago, she wouldn’t hesitate killing and who wouldn’t hesitate killing her was living with them and calling herself their ally and strangely enough, when Thorne almost got her, that ended up just adding to the growing admiration she was surprised herself feeling for Miss Thorne ever since the first time they confronted each other, and the more she saw her in action, the more she found it wasn’t just her research that excited Evie, there was something about her as well.

The master assassin still didn’t believe in her story about having a change of heart and a part of her didn’t wanted to trust the templar at all, but so far, it was old animosity speaking. One can’t be too careful when dealing with their worst enemy, especially when said enemy is provoking rather confused feelings on you.

Thinking of all of that made her realize she didn’t wanted to go home, not yet, she needed more time, she needed to do things and get her body moving and her mind active so it could be far away from those thoughts. Well, Mr. Dickens wanted to talk to her about taking another look to another mistery of London, she might as well go.

 

**Evening:**

Henry Green’s eyes were shining as he slowly and carefully pulled the paper to read; “Are these original scrolls from the Chinese brotherhood? They were lost for centuries!”

After a whole afternoon working on it, they finally had Lucy’s research organized to her liking and during the time that it took to do so Henry Green and Lucy Thorne got around to talking to each other. It’s funny how one common interest can bring the most different people together.

“Oh yes, the ones lost in the early XVI century, that’s why I am specially proud of that find.” The redhead said, picking up books from the shelf and organizing them in the work table the Rooks are brought in. “It took me all the way from Macau to Lisbon, finally managed to find them hidden away in a old destroyed Assassin’s Bureau in the Spanish and Portuguese border. Took us five days, 20 men working day and night to recover it.”

“Ever translated them?” Henry asked.

“Not yet, we do have to be specially careful with those.” Thorne responded putting the books on her table. “You never know what kind of information they may contain, so it isn’t just anyone who can translate them, just someone within the order and the Chinese order had to yet respond to us.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anymore, besides I was more concentrated on this.” Lucy put her hand atop a pile of books and papers on top of the table. “This is the whole of my research, half a decade of work.” She glanced at him. “Since the shroud was not in the tower, that means I must have overlooked something and the only way to find it is going to be revising all of this.”

“Well then.” Henry smiled. “Shall we?”

\--

As he waved good bye to a very jovial Maxwell Roth, Jacob easily recognized his friend the other side of the street, an unmistakable small and slender figure sitting in outside table of a cafe, drinking a full cup of the drink. He waved at Ned and approached his table, pulling a chair and turning it backwards to sit on it.

“I am starting to think you’re addicted to that stuff.” The gang leader pointed at the cup of coffee with a smile, taking off his hood and pulling his collapsed top-hat from his coat pocket.

Ned ignored that frankly offensive statement and instead asked: “Was that Maxwell Roth?”

Jacob looked over his shoulders at the carriage. “Yeah!” He said simply and then indicated something with his head on the other side of the street behind Ned. It was a rather beautiful young woman, pale and redhaired, the mobster turned to his friend without understanding why he was showing her, but the confusion was gone when as soon as he looked at Jacob the assassin let his hat expand and raised both his eyebrows in rhythm.

“Very funny.” Ned rolled his eyes, feeling his face becoming slightly hot. “What the hell were you doing with Roth?”

“Nothing much.” The taller man said, shrugging. “We have some objectives in common.”

“Look, Jacob, if there is something I learned in this city is that you don’t trust Maxwell Roth. You don’t associate with Maxwell Roth, I had to a few times due to my” he stopped to look for the right word “line of work and even then, I was very careful every step of the way, and so should you.”

“It’s strictly business!”

“So where my dealings with him, still a terrible idea!” Ned insisted.

“Business.” Jacob said categorically.

“Now--” Started the diminute mobster frowning his eyebrows in sarcastic fake confusion “--when did I heard you say that before?”

Jacob rolled his eyes; “It’s not the same thing as with Pearl!”

“I didn’t say anything!” Ned raised both his hands in a defensive manner, but then something struck him; “Wait... Pearl?” He let out a huff of confusion that shook his whole body and with a half smiled and raised eyebrow asked; “Since when were you and Miss Attaway so intimate?”

Seeing Jacob’s face made him regret this question.

The gang leader looked surprised for a second, he blushed and frowned. “Somedays you just can’t talk to people.” He mumbled standing up to leave.

“Oh, come on Frye, don’t be like that!” Ned said, trying to keep his cool, but it was in vain, as Jacob just stood up and started to leave. “Jacob, wait!” The mobster stood up and ran after Jacob, holding him by the back of his coat. “Come on bud, I am sorry!” He said. “Let’s go have a beer huh? It’s on me.” Ned saw Jacob consider it for a second and saw he had a hook. “Maybe we’ll get into another bar fight.” He grinned.

Jacob smiled, but it was a bit forced, very strange in Ned’s eyes, but still, at least he agreed.

 

**Night:**

Spring-heeled Jack’s cult was done for and Evie was finally able to get back to the train. She walked the wagons. Her own still empty, Jacob wasn’t “home” yet either, the bar wagon had its usual assortment of Rooks, so she could only assume that both Henry and Lucy were still in the newest wagons.

Quietly she walked to the door, looked in and to her surprise Henry and Lucy seemed to be getting along quite well, both hunched over her papers, examining them carefully and having a quiet discussion. Looking around Evie saw a pot of tea, two cups, a few biscuits, open books a pitcher of water. Everything seemed to imply they spended the whole day there.

Alone, together, all day.

For some reason Evie found herself rather annoyed by that constatation.

Evie was about to make her presence known when she heard;

“Mr. Mir, look at this.” Lucy said, smiling openly at Henry as she pulled a page up and showed it to Henry. “I think it is what we were looking for.”

Not that Evie heard that last part, because her ears were ringing and she feeling swarmed by mixed emotions; What the hell happened that Miss Thorne and Henry were so intimate she was calling him by his actual name? How come she smiled so openly and sincerely at him, when Evie herself had seen little aside from a sarcastic smile now and then?

Why did Evie found herself caring so much?

Amidst all of this there was only one thing she could say:

“Mr. Mir?” Asked the master assassin, in disbelief, just them attracting the attention of Henry for the first time.

“Miss Frye!” Henry looked up with a large smile, but Evie’s expression made it disappear, though he couldn’t understand it. Was she under the impression his name was supposed to be a secret? She knew after all. “We were waiting for you.”

“Miss Frye we found some important information.” Thorne looked up excited, seemingly without having heard Evie’s exclamation, but frowned seeing Evie’s face. “Is there something wrong?”

The assassin shook her head and ignoring the question, asked; “What did you find?” walking towards them.

“Information.” Lucy extended Evie one of her annotations. “I knew I had it somewhere.”

Evie passed her eyes over the paper, reading it quickly; “This speaks of a vault being built somewhere in the ground of the Buckingham palace in 1847.”

“Exactly!”

“Where?”

“I have no idea.” Thorne responded and seeing Evie’s annoyed expression; added with a deeply sarcastic tone: “Detailed plans to the palace aren’t exactly a matter for public access, Miss Frye.”

“Even then I doubt they would have a room marked ‘secret vault’.” Henry added with a smile that despite his irony was still quite charming. He looked at Evie and then Lucy, that smiled back at him.

“Still I wouldn’t doubt you would know just the person to help with that. Right, Mr. Mir?” the redhead added.

Henry blushed slightly. “I do believe I do, Miss Thorne. I’ll send him a letter right away. It is time to go home after all, it’s quite late. Goodnight, Miss Thorne,” he bowed his head slightly at Lucy, a gesture she responded by doing the same before sitting down on her desk again and he turned to Evie and smiled warmly. “Miss Frye.”

Her response however sounded quite chilly a simple “Goodnight, Mr Green.” said without even looking at him.

Green was still quite puzzled, but he couldn’t stay any longer so he left.

Evie crossed her arms and legs, propping herself by the shoulder against a wall of the wagon, observing as Lucy put the papers away with some interest, her mind tried to process what she had seen. Wondering if Henry trusted her that much already, if it was because she saved him the day before and if, maybe, he was interested in her.

Lucy Thorne was, after all, a beautiful woman, red hair just dark enough to be attractive, flawless skin, deep brown eyes that would sometimes have a deceitfully friendly light to them, thought she herself was constantly surrounded by a kind of romantic darkness, an alluring shadow, a byronic charm and that was ignoring her general poise and strong body; Any man would want her, not to mention a few women.

Not Evie thought. She was not like those women and she knew because if she was, she would never feel what she felt for Henry, and one can’t feel like that about two people. That was just selfish and wrong.

“Are you done staring at me, Miss Frye?” The ex-templar asked with some annoyance in her voice. “Am I really that entertaining to observe?”

_Yes!_ A voice said, somewhere in the back of the Master Assassin’s mind. A voice that went ignored.; “Mr Green seems to think so. Or should I say; Mr. Mir?”

Slowly the redhead turned to her with a fake smile and that deceitfully friendly light in her eyes; “Is there a problem with me calling him that, Miss Frye?” she asked, in a honeyed voice and Evie felt a shiver go down her spine. It wasn’t fear or even unpleasant, just something to be ignored like that voice saying “yes”.

“No, none at all,” she lied “I was just surprised, that’s all. Even I don’t call Henr-- Mr Green that.”

“You do call him by his first name sometimes though.” She grinned and strangely enough, Evie felt like there was some bitterness to it. “Mr. Mir’s presence turned out to be more enjoyable than I expected. He is an intelligent man and between our breaks he made tea and we talked, I asked him about his original name, assuming, fortunately correctly, he had one and he told me.” She spoke and slowly moved towards Evie and was now about about a feet from her, both hands posed behind her back.

“And you just decided to call him by that?” Evie frowned.

“It is his name. Had he prefered Mr. Green and told me, I would call him that.” She lifted her chin. “Is my report to your satisfaction, Miss Frye, or are you still jealous?”

“I am not--” Evie started, but was quickly cut.

“Please, Miss Frye,“ Thorne said, raising one hand to silence her “it’s obvious. Don’t worry, Mr. Mir is in no danger of a romantic attachment from my part.” She smiled at Evie, a bit more sincere now and walked pass the younger woman, but before leaving, almost as if by impulse, she turned around and Evie could swear she heard something that sounded remarkably like; “But you might be.” before the redhead’s steps became distance and once more a pleasant shiver went down the assassin’s spine as this time she found a bit harder to ignore.

**tbc**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is a new chapter and if you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing and my friends hate revising it for me (THANK YOU PETE, YOU'RE AN ANGEL!!), consider this your Christmas present!! 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Holidays, thank you all for the follows and faves and Kudos and Reblogs, they ALL mean a LOT TO ME! Comments specially, it's always nice to have feedback.


	4. The Hunter

_It was probably well past 2 AM when Evie was awakened from her slumber by nothing in particular; she was still unable to get back to sleep. Tired, she looked around and realized that her wagon-mate wasn’t present, which she found strange. Slowly, the master assassin stood up and put on her trousers and went to look for Miss Thorne._

_She walked by Jacob snoring in his sofa, the first time he had slept in the train in quite a few nights. She passed by the wagon-bar that, as per usual, had a few Rooks sleeping in chairs and booths, then the wagon where they kept their tools and their equipment at the ready, reaching the last two wagons filled with nothing but the books from Miss Thorne’s library._

_Evie didn’t quite know what had made the ex-templar go back to her study to research all of a sudden since they had most of what they needed ready and were just waiting for news from the Maharajah, yet, there she was hunched over a book._

_“What are you doing?” The assassin asked, walking into the last wagon._

_“Isn’t it obvious, Miss Frye?” Lucy replied, without looking up._

_“It’s past two AM, Miss Thorne, I did not gave up my bed so you wouldn’t sleep in it.”_

_“You can keep your bed, Miss Frye, usually I rarely ever sleep more than 3 hours or so at night.” The redhead replied, making annotations from what she was reading in the book._

_Evie bent her head to side and approached her, “What exactly are you researching?”_

_“Some old suspicions, I finally have time to look over.”_

_The assassin raised an eyebrow; “Such as?”_

_“I have nothing concrete on it either way.” Lucy dodged._

_“Indulge me!” Her tone of voice made it clear to Thorne that it was better to just speak._

_The redhead sighed. “It’s about the apple. I assume you know what I am talking about.”_

_“Yes.” Evie responded simply, resisting the urge to spill out everything she knew about the Pieces of Eden, tempting, since she had dedicated a lot of time to reading about it in every archived information the brotherhood had._

_“Well, there was an--” she paused “thought that occurred to me. Do you know how the war of Troy started, miss Frye?”_

 

**Morning:**

Assassins are nocturnal creatures; Sons and daughters of shadows, if they ever met the morning light, it was due to a night without any sleep at all, which was exactly the case when Evie met with Mr. Dickens that morning.

The last week had been strangely calm after all that excitement, Jacob was working at a bodyguard for the prime minister and his wife, Henry was waiting for a response from the Maharajah and haven’t showed up in a week, but on another side that mostly meant that she had spend a lot of time alone with Miss Thorne, which was why Evie wanted to avoid the train.

Still, perhaps she went for Mr. Dickens too early in the morning, for her tired countenance was clear even for the old writer and he inquired after it, which she dismissed as she started to look for clues. The case was strange, as the ones the ghost club got involved in were known to be; an old postal service carriage running about, stunning people with it’s glow, despite the fact that the mail was now delivered by train for quite sometime.

There wasn’t much to go after, the broken carriage, the letters that would sadly never be delivered the weirdly tempting old mattress. Evie really couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen asleep in a mattress, even with Thorne’s weird sleeping hours, she still would rather leave the bed for their ally.

She sat down on the old mattress, soon laying down onto it, to think of the case, of course. Mr Dickens didn’t seem to think much of it, and then, to help her thought process, she decided to close her eyes for just a few seconds, so obviously she feel asleep.

\--

He moved above the buildings with a box in his hand. Jacob rubbed his face with his free one, the smell of smoke clinging to his clothes, he could still feel the heat of the fire on his face and the weight of the children on his arms. He had never been a particularly religious man, but now he couldn’t help but think that the survival of those children was a miracle, divine intervention.

Yet it was undeniable that his own thoughtlessness was the sole responsible for everything that happened, those children almost died because of him, because he was foolish enough to trust Maxwell Roth, but the reason why he trusted him was even more scary.

He did because he saw himself in him. He could easily see himself becoming like Roth and for sometime, that was good, to be free like that, to do what he wished to without the constraints the rules imposed by his father, his sister, the creed, which he never thought very long and hard about, a life where he did what was necessary, killing whoever he needed to kill, but now, he saw what a life without those restraints could mean... They could mean he would kill innocents without consideration for it.

He didn’t wanted to think about it much however, he didn’t liked thinking much and he was tired of it all, at the moment he needed a friend, and he could think of one that wasn’t that far, in fact, just a few blocks away you would find a rather dapper young man, standing in a beautiful and richly decorated apartment getting himself ready for the day.

His name was Ned Wynert and at the moment, the young man buttoned his impeccably white and perfectly pressed shirt. Looking himself in the mirror, he carefully lifted the stiff collar he went to look for a tie. He examined the colors, rubbing his chin, he picked a red one with yellow dots and a green one with silver stripes and looked at them in the light, vaguely asking himself why the hell he even had that ugly red tie, before abandoning it and picking up a blue one with bronze vertical stripes, when he heard the window being open behind him.

Fast as a lightning he pulled his gun from his shoulder holster, still waiting for it’s turn to be put on, pointing it at whoever was coming in.

“Frye...” Ned huffed and frowned. “Don’t you ever use the damn door?”

“What is the fun in that?” The gang leader asked back opening his arms and shrugging his shoulder.

Ned rolled his eyes, turned his back on the other man and, putting the gun back on it’s place, went back to his important tie decision. He ran his thumb over the fabric of the ties and the silk of the green one felt nicer, so he put that on.

“You’re a really dapper bloke.” Jacob said, approaching him from behind.

“I like being well dressed.” He looked at Jacob and grinned. “I know you probably don’t know how that is.”

“I do!” The assassin said, a bit offended.

“You’re a bad liar, Frye.” Ned quipped turning to him again, just then noticing something in his hand. “What’s that box?”

The taller man just then became aware of the box in his hand, he had almost forgotten about it, but still, he didn’t looked at it, it was still a vivid image in his head, poor Rook dead inside the box, yet, even with those thoughts, Jacob was able to keep his face straight, or at least as straight at Jacob Frye could be;

“An invitation for a party.” He smiled, and though it would work on most people, it didn’t ring true to Ned. Maybe it was all the time they’ve been spending together, maybe it was that the charms of the assassin were finally getting to him and maybe that was why he just made a sound with his throat and went look for a waistcoat that went well with his tie.

Jacob Frye had been lately more trouble than he was worth and Ned was determined to not let the gang leader and his charms and handsomeness get to him to him anymore.

“Also a dead bird.” Jacob added suddenly, making Ned turn to him slowly with a puzzled expression, as the other man smiled sheepishly.

“What?” Wynert asked flatly.

“Dead bird.” Jacob shrugged.

They both went silent for sometime, seconds, but the whole thing was so awkward it felt much longer.

“Why did you even come here?” Ned suddenly asked, a bit angry.

Jacob looked at him with the fakest offended face the New Yorker ever saw: “Can’t a man visit his friends?”

The thief crooked an eyebrow; “How many friends bring dead birds when visiting?”

“So, you don’t think it’s a good calling card?” Quipped Jacob.

“If you’re a Sicilian mobster, maybe!”

“I do have some mediterranean charm, don’t you think?” Jacob asked, hand over his chest and forced hurt expression that was comical to the point Ned couldn’t help, but stifling a laugh.

“Why are you keeping that damn thing anyway?” The thief asked, trying to keep serious, but being unable to keep the grin from his lips.

“I don’t want to throw him away.” Jacob shrugged. “Poor creature, didn’t deserve this.”

It was the first time Ned really saw Jacob softening up a bit, but somewhat, it wasn’t surprising for Ned that Jacob would feel bad for the death of an innocent animal, what was strange was how Jacob seemed to feel a bit guilty about it. Still, being very used to the fact that sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut, he just finished buttoning his waist coat and putting the rest of his clothes on as the silence feel. A thoughtful silence while both men were concentrated on other things, Looking himself in the mirror, Wynert liked his looks, but seeing Jacob’s still thoughtful expression in the reflection he had an idea;

“You know” he started, smoothing over his tie to put a pin in it, the last touch on the ensemble “I have a taxidermist friend.” He turned to Jacob, putting on his hat. “I bet he could make that bird look alive.”

Jacob smiled at him, a crooked grin that few sincere soon after. “I would love that.”

\--

Evie shot a pursuer right in the temple, the bullet moving slowly, leaving waves in the air as it ripped to the enemies head, and she whipped the reins, inciting the horses forwards, two more carriages were closing in on her and she was now out of bullets, so she got on top of the carriage and used her throwing knives, quickly eliminating the drivers, assuming the reins again and speeding away.

“You’re safe now!” Evie told the woman inside the carriage.

There was a deep sigh of relief: “Oh, thank goodness! Please take me home!” and so Evie did, conducting the woman to a place that looked frankly familiar, but she thought none of it. “Please, come inside, so I can thank you.”

Evie came down from the carriage and got in. Inside she saw the silhouette of a young woman sitting across from her.

“I knew you would come.” She said, and moved forwards, her arms enlaced Evie’s neck and she sat on her lap, she was still covered in shadows, she couldn’t see her face, yet she knew she was smiling. “Miss Frye.” She whispered and before she kissed her, Evie thought she recognized that voice, that tone…

Her eyes jolted open and she was still laying on the dirty old mattress in the abandoned lot.

“Miss Frye?” Dicken’s said, noticing her sudden awake. “Are you alright?”

“Just a dream,” Evie rubbed her eyes “I supose.”

“You better go home and rest my friend.” The old writer looked around. “I don’t think there is anything for us here, after all.” and she noded at him and left.

 

**Afternoon:**

Evie came back to the train. She was too tired and still needed some sleep, preferably on her bed.

Frye got in from the front of her wagon, after making sure Miss Thorne wasn’t there, something she noted with a sigh of relief. She peeled her coat off, passing by what used to be her vanity, which now included quite a few of Miss Thorne’s personal items as well. Looking around, she noticed how much the redhead had come to take space in her life. Her belongings in Evie’s vanity, her clothes in Evie closet and those where the parts easier to deal with.

Thorne’s presence had been having far worse consequences, making Evie question much about herself, which she believed was the cause and root of that damn dream.

She sighed, removing her coat tiredly and throwing it on her chair carelessly, which was rare, yet she was too tired to care right now as she let herself fall sitting onto her bed, ready to untie her boots, but instead she just let her body fall, face first, into her pillow, which she hugged, taking a deep breath with her nose.

That was when the smell of carnation hit her; Lucy’s smell.

A deep annoyed groan left her throat.

WIth her face against the pillow Evie’s muffled voice whined; “This can’t get any better...”

She heard the steps of a high heel shoe approaching her; “Ah, there you are Miss Frye.”

“I was wrong...” Evie mumbled.

“What?” Lucy Thorne asked, standing besides the bed, with a raised eyebrow and both hands folded behind her back. Evie started at her from her laying position;

“Nothing.” She said, sitting up. “What is it, Thorne?”

“Look at this.” Lucy said, sitting besides her on her bed and showing her the paper.

Evie passed her eyes over it; “It’s coded.”

“I know that!” The redhead said, rolling her eyes, which was not very good for Evie’s already inflamed nerves. “Use the sense; I have a suspicion.”

The assassin did so, concentrating on the paper and as she did the page lit up before her eyes. “You’re right.” She said, knitting her eyebrows together, concentrated. “It’s greek, I was never very good at it” she heard Lucy huff in frustration at this “but, there are drawings and--” She suddenly stopped, reaching inside her inner pocket with haste and pulling out--

“The key?” Thorne sounded surprised.

“No, the beads.” The assassin looked at the groves and marks in the beads that adorned the key’s string.

“The beads?”

“Yes, I can’t understand a word, but It seems to imply that there is some sort of way to reveal a message.” She looked at the beads and groaned frustrated; “I wonder if Henry, knows anything about greek. I’ll go ask him.” Evie picked up her coat.

“I’ll go with you.” Lucy said, standing up.

“No you won’t!” Evie’s words carried the tone of an order, causing Lucy’s face to contort in anger, but the assassin ignored, it walking towards the wardrobe.

Lucy followed her; “Why not?”

“We don’t need you.”

“Yes you do, this is still my research and my findings, you can’t just take it over.”

“I can. I am the one who can read it after all.” Evie said with sarcasm. “You stay here.”

“You’re unable to give me any good reason why.”

“Henry and I don’t need you to do this, Miss Thorne.” She looked at her with anger in her eyes “You are aggravating me, greatly, Templar, you better stop.”

She gave  a cat like grin and approached Evie, her face held fearlessly just a few centimeters for her. “Oh Miss Frye, I am far from being done with aggravating you. I’ll not have my research hindered by a schoolgirl crush.”

“I DO NOT have a crush on Henry!”

Lucy’s smile widened; “You’re calling Mr. Mir by his first name again, Miss Frye.” Her face became serious again “Stop this foolishness! Trust me, I have no interest in Mr. Mir as I already made clear.” Lucy smiled sarcastically again. “Or are you trying to keep yourself away from me and not--”

In an impulse, Evie pushed her against the wagon wall by the shoulders, and held her there. At first it was just her anger speaking, her fury over that stupid dream, the fact she couldn’t even lay in her own bed anymore because just the redhead’s smell in it was too much to bear. She stared at her in fury at first, but their proximity changed something and soon she realized she was no longer looking at the templar’s eyes with anger, but to her lips, red and pouted in surprise, with overwhelming desire.

A breath caught in her throat, this was insane! They’ve been that close for about a week, it was not too long ago, she would have killed her without hesitation. She did tried to twice, but now, all she could think… No! She had to pull away and she was going to. Soon.

Lucy, however, saw the assassin’s eyes moved to her lips and staring at them with a heavy shadow in them, and felt a knot in her throat. She knew she wanted this as much as Evie did, she also knew the assassin was lying to herself and feared that her courage would falter. She wanted to say it, she wanted to tell her to kiss her already.

She didn’t, she just stood there, feeling the assassin’s breath on her face. Yet, when the assassin started to pull away. Thorne panicked and held her in place by her collar.

That was too much for the assassin, she ground her teeth and grimaced, a deep grunt came out of her throat and she slammed her body agaisnt the ex-templar’s, her strong arms gripping her waist and her mouth against her’s, lips pressed together in a deep and invasive kiss.

Lucy corresponded immediately, throwing her arms around her neck, pulling the assassin closer, but it didn’t seem enough and in her desperation to cling to Frye, she put her leg around Evie’s, which the assassin, to her surprize, caught, grabbing her thigh fiercely, eliciting a deep moan from her.

Both had their eyes closed, Lucy’s tongue touched her’s, teasing and playing with it, Evie was never kissed like that before, but it was quite difficult to compare the two clumsy inexperienced boys she ever kissed in Crawley with Thorne; Her tongue moved with such skill, that when she moved away Evie seeked her out, but Lucy pushed her head back and it was her turn to look at Evie with lust.

Thorne smiled at her, with her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, she touched Evie’s chin with her hand, delicately running her thumb over Evie’s lower lip with a small grin that slowly turned into a predatory smile.

Taking her thumb away she extended her tongue and licked Evie’s lips and pulled away, the assassin trying to chase after her again, but Lucy’s hand held her head back, half lidded eyes focussed on her lips, which she approached to kiss again, but pulling away as soon as Evie moved forwards.

Frustrated, Evie moved her hand to Lucy’s rear, grabbing it fiercely, making the redhead joult into her, giving the assassin opportunity to kiss her again and managed, doing her best to mimic how Lucy kissed her and could feel as she could hear her moans against her mouth from that and the fact she was still firmly and hungrily grabbing her ass.

Her mind was completely gone now, completely cut loose, being guided just by her desire and sensation, no coherent sounds came out of her mouth, no coherent thoughts to her mind, and it didn’t help matter when Lucy pulled her hair back and kissed her way down to her throat, finding a soft spot on it and sucking on it hard.

Evie let out a loud moan of pleasure and felt weak at her knees, she moaned Thorne’s name, feeling drunk in her sensations, but reality is cruel and cold and sometimes will hit you from nowhere.

Or at least that was what Lucy felt when Evie suddenly broke their kiss and the grip between their bodies and jumped back, almost falling over her own desk.

The assassin looked very distraught, flushed and breathless, her face still showed signs of what she felt, and the the skin of her neck was starting to grow dark as a result of Lucy’s mouth.

Evie took a deep breath and picked up her coat, putting it back on and ran away, jumping out of the moving train and almost losing her balance, but she pressed forwards, running away and as shot her rope, she could faintly hear Miss Thorne calling her a coward.

 

**Evening:**

At two different parts the same borough, two siblings, brother and sister, that had shared every moment of their lives up until the point when they got to London, but now, they only grew more and more apart. If only they knew how much they needed each other now.

 

Jacob knocked out the guard easily with a strangle hold, cutting the blood flow to the brain, he made the man lose conscience in seconds and stole his mask.  He slipped inside the theater, not very becoming of a guest of honor, but just this time Jacob thought it was better to play by the rules.

His father would be proud… If he omitted the whole part about almost getting a bunch of innocent kids killed and associating with someone like Roth.

From his vantage point Jacob could see the whole theater, but not Roth. He saw about four different men that could be him, all of which were being guarded by blighters. He moved to them, slowly and quietly taking them out, without being noticed, one by one, like flies they fell, including the ones he poisoned, but none of them was Roth, that was when he came on stage.

The assassin watched as he ordered  his blighters to burn the place down, with everyone inside, he screamed with a theatrical madness on the stage as he dedicated the show to him, Jacob Frye.

All of this death and destruction, just for him.

_Oh, Roth… You shouldn’t have._

Just a few days ago he thought of this man as someone who offered him something his father never did; appreciation for his methods, a view of the necessity of those methods, but now all he could see was this insanity and chaos, the fire, the screams, the people running, it was like a repeat of that same morning.

It was impossible to reach the stage; fire surrounded Roth, and for a second Jacob considered just leaving and letting that damn crazy man kill himself.

He couldn’t do that. Jacob knew he had to do it, it was a problem he had to solve, something he couldn’t run from.

It was something he didn’t want to run from.

Inside of him boiled a deep desire to kill that man and, despite not knowing at that moment, everything that he represented. He was Jacob, given a few years in the same path, Roth was the living embodiment of how right his father was about him, but he didn’t wanted to face that. Right now, Jacob just wanted to kill.

He freed the machinist, he got to the rig and cut the counterweight, watching Roth squirm in front of him, before dragging him to where he was and stabbing him in the throat.

Between the gargles of blood, he could hear Roth speak;

“Darling, what a night. The stuff of legends.” He sounded so prideful, so happy.

Jacob couldn’t understand, but this time, for this once in his life, he wanted to;

“Why did you do it?” He asked, in his face, an expression of clear disgust; “All of it?”

“What?” Roth asked in an innocent tone; “Snap a baby crow’s neck between my thumb and forefinger? Slice to bits those you deem innocent? Keep the world in it’s wonderful manic state?” he laughed, “For the same reason I do anything!” Maxwell Roth held Jacob’s head in his hands and pulled him, kissing him hard on the lips, till Jacob was able to push him off, disgusted;

“Why not?” and his hearty laughter filled the air, as Jacob gave up on understanding.

Looking around him, he saw that the flames had grew much higher and stronger, he needed to escape. He made a frantic run to the nearest window, but collapsed, so he had to look for another way out, yet, again and again, the whole place seemed to just fall apart around him while in flames… In fact a perfect reflexion on his life at the moment;

“This is a nightmare!”

\--

“You must be Miss Thorne.” He took off his top hat and bowed. “Honored to finally make your acquaintance milady!”

“... And I am Clara. Evie asked us to come here and keep an eye on you.”

Seeing the really tall young man and the really short young lady before her, the only things that Lucy Thorne could think was, of course; “I didn’t know the Circus was in town”.

As a lady of fine breeding, she obviously didn’t say that.

Still, as a rather short fused grown woman, there was something she had to ask:

“Who are you two?” She asked the tall young man. “And what do you mean by “Evie told us to keep an eye on you”?” Lucy stared at the young lady.

“Pardon!” The man in the hat said. “I am Robert Topping, your humble servant, and this lovely young lady is Miss Clara O’Dea.”

“Evie told us to keep you company.” Clara cut in with a serious tone, sitting on the sofa. “While we wait for her and Jacob. We have business with them.”

Lucy looked again at the two, the young girl couldn’t be more than ten, despite how much she had an air far beyond her age and the man, aside from being ridiculously dressed, was also a bit too young. He also looked somewhat familiar. She examined his face, but nothing came to her till she saw his maroon velvet top hat with a giant golden B in it. Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

“What kind of business?” She sat down on the sofa, with a very straight back and legs crossed.

“Our business;” Clara said, suddenly putting her own back straight. “is none of your business.”

That response made Lucy raise an eyebrow. “You’re an ill bred little street urchin aren’t you?”

“Better ill bred than inbred.”

“Miss O’Dea, please!” Said Rob, with an scandalized in a way so theatrical, for one second he reminded her of a far younger, far more benign Maxwell Roth. “She doesn’t mean it, milady.” He added bowing to Lucy slightly.

The corner of Lucy’s mouth curved upwards “Of course she does.” She then looked at Clara again and narrowed her eyes, the little girl felt the urge to flinch, but stood her ground.

“I know you...” Clara said defiantly, and she did.

Alright, not EXACTLY, she, however, remembered when Evie and Henry asked herself and her children to keep an eye out for her. Even if she was here now, Evie looked so strange when she talked about her that Clara couldn’t help but feel some animosity towards the woman on principle.

“I am keeping an eye on you, Thorne!”

Lucy rolled her eyes, but decided to not antagonize the child. The day was bad enough as it was “I’ll be in my wagon”, she said, and left.

\--

_“You’re soaked to the bone, Mr. Frye.” Pearl said, patting his coat with her hands. Her voice sounded surprisingly concerned. Surprisingly pleasant “What were you thinking, standing in the rain like that?”_

_“I like the rain.” Jacob shrugged and gave her his best charming smile, but she just rolled her eyes. He guessed it was too late to be charming the entrepreneur._

_“How long did you stay outside?” She frowned, putting her hand inside his coat, feeling the water that had seeped right through his thick leather and wool coat, into his silk waistcoat;  “The water soaked right through.” Pearl shook her head. “You’ll get sick. Take off your clothes.” She moved to her bed and Jacob looked, surprised, at her, but she didn’t notice since she had her back to him. All she did was remove the duvet from her bed. He started to unbutton his waist coat, asking himself if that was going where were he thought it was going, and if she read his thoughts, the tycoon added; “Behind, the screen, Mr. Frye!”_

_“OH!” He exclaimed and went behind the screen, blushing._

_“Give me your clothes Mr. Frye, I’ll put them to dry by the fire.”_

_“Thank you.” Jacob was still blushing as he examined himself, his undershirt and trousers were completely wet, but his pants were not so bad and, after_ that _, he didn’t want to be completely naked in front of Miss Attaway. Actually. “Uh, I’ll just walk around in undergarments?”_

_He heard her chuckle from the other side of the screen; “That would be very improper Mr. Frye.” The duvet he saw her remove from her bed was thrown over the screen; “Here, put this over your shoulders when you’re done.”_

_“Of course.” Jacob said and obeyed. The duvet was very soft and comforting, he came out from back the screen. “Thank you, Miss Attaway.”_

_Pearl looked him up and down, but suddenly turned around; “Oh, where are my manners? Come sit by the fire.” she gestured towards a rather comfortable looking arm chair; “Tea?”_

_“Yes, I would love some.”_

_“Sugar?”_

_“Sure.”_

_She moved to the small table where the tea set was and then he noticed something._

_“Two cups?” He asked. “Are you waiting for company? I can leave if you want me to.”_

_“Oh, no, it won’t be necessary.” She reassured him; “A dear friend of mine was supposed to come pay me visit tonight, but she suffered an injury and couldn’t come.”_

_“That’s a shame. What happened to her?”_

_At this point, a strange smile formed in Pearl’s lips; “Got scratched by a feral cat.” She chuckled. “I believe she’ll flail that animal if she ever gets her hands on her.”_

_“Your friend sounds very angry.”_

_“She is a fierce and strong woman. One of the most admirable I’ve ever met.”_

_“So your friendship is born out of similarity, I see..”_

_She smiled at him; “You flatter me, Mr Frye.”_

_“I only speak the truth.”_

_Pearl opened her mouth to say something, but soon closed it again, with that same smile, and went to pour them both some tea. She was still in her dress, despite the fact that it was about 10 PM, and over her vanity there was a neatly stacked pile of very official looking papers on it._

_As she approached with the cup Jacob cleared his throat; “I do like you a lot Miss Attaway.” He smiled at her, the smile that stole the hearts of every girl who ever saw it_

_Miss Attaway, however, just gave him an amused look. The corners of her mouth moved up “I see.”_

_That caught him off guard. No reaction aside from amusement was not what he was used to receive from that, he moved uncomfortably in his chair._

_Pearl offered him his cup of tea and sat back on another armchair, taking her own cup. She observed him from her seat and he stayed in his, quieter than normal, trying to think of his next move._

_“Do you ever remove that, uh… Gauntlet?”_

_“It’s a--” For a second he almost corrected her, it by it’s actual name, but he stopped himself; “Would, I guess I would feel naked without it.” Jacob admitted, looking at his hidden blade fondly. Though he took it off when he was in the fight club, he was always in haste to put it back as soon as possible, perhaps, it came from his father’s ‘Always ready’ mentality. He guessed he did learned SOMETHING from Ethan after all..._

_“Is that a blade?” Putting her cup aside, she stood up and pulled his arm, examining his hidden blade._

_Jacob knew he should take his arm away from her and try to keep his hidden blade, well, hidden, but it was the first time he had managed to spark her interest in any way, and his assassin side was becoming weaker and weaker before both the part of him that wanted to attract the woman and the showman in him, so… With a simple flick of his wrist, he made his blade extend, surprising Pearl. He grinned satisfied with himself; “Yes, it is a blade.”_

_“Oh!” She let out a nervous laugh after that exclamation, and Jacob had to hold back his own. He haven’t seen anyone so nervous seeing a hidden a blade extended. Well, aside from the templars, at least, the rare times they saw it coming. “So it’s a hidden dagger?” He nodded. “And what is the use of that?”_

_“Catching your enemies by surprise, of course.”_

_“It doesn’t strike me as a weapon you would use, to be quite honest.” Pearl admitted. “Frankly it seems a bit--” She struggled with the word._

_“Subtle?” He enquired._

_“Dirty.” She admitted._

_He shrugged his shoulders. “So are most people I use it against.”_

_She nodded; “Well, you do lead a gang after all.” Pearl once again examined the blade, running her fingers through its flat side carefully, but her fingers got slowly and dangerously close to the edge still, as she spoke next, there was a bit of a heaviness to her deep voice, it trembled and she sounded a bit breathless as she spoke; “It looks rather--” and just as she was about to say the word sharp, she cut her finger and she herself took a just as sharp intake of breath with a moan in the end._

_Jacob immediately retrieved his blade and held her hand. “Let me see!” He asked, turning to cut towards himself, it was a cut to the pad of the ring finger;. “It’s superficial, no need to worry, it will just bleed a little.” and almost instinctively, he put her finger in his mouth to suck out the blood and stop the bleeding, and was so concentrated over it, it took him sometime to realize that Pearl’s other hand was running through the locks of his hair. Slowly he looked up._

_When he looked at her, the tycoon had a grin on her face, She took her finger from his mouth._

_“The bleeding stopped.”  Pearl smiled at him, and held him by the the chin, lowering herself, she kissed him lightly on the lips; “Thank you.”_

_Jacob was speechless._

_“What is it Mr. Frye, were you not trying to seduce me a few minutes ago?” Pearl pulled him up by his shilling necklace. “I am giving you what you want.” She caressed his lips with her’s “Besides, I promise I am much, much warmer than that fire.” she let go of his pendant, running both her hand through his hairy chest; “But I do hate being overdressed around my guests.” She grinned, and Jacob smiled back at her, barely believing his luck._

_He gave her, his very best charming smile; “Want me to help you out of that dress?”_

_“No.” she responded, enjoying the slight confusion on his face, before she approached her lips to his ear and whispered to him, lustfully; “I want you to cut me out of it!”_

 --

 Evie broke the templar guard’s neck with ease and anger, she ran to the place where he said that they followed Henry to, her heart racing, and her throat knotted, a million thoughts running through her head; that letting Henry help her, as a distraction no less, was a foolish idea, that she should have eliminated the guards herself and send him to investigate the chests ensuring his safety from above, she should have done the whole thing alone, or even have bought Thorne with her, a small part of her mind suggested.

She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts as she reached the place; there were signs of a fight, taking a deep breath, she examined the area with her eagle vision, clues lighting up before her eyes. She was frantically looking them over when she saw a few of Clara’s kids close. Seeing the opportunity to get information, she ran to them, asking if they saw Henry.

“Yes, a few of those ugly fellas threw him into a carriage and took him that way.” A young girl said.

“What did the carriage look like?”

“Uh, it was dark,” the little boy responded; “but the one they took him to in had a wobbly wheel.”

“Yes, they hit a lot of things on the way.”

“Thank you, children!”

Looking down the road, Evie saw the path of destruction and stealing a carriage she followed it. It was hard to keep her mind focused. Frye wasn’t used to this, she was usually better than this, perfectly able to keep focused, perfectly able to do her duties right, keep her sleep schedule, but it was now hard, her mind was in such confusion.

Right now she felt real fear, that something happened to Henry, that he was being tortured or that he was dead or hurt, someone she had grown to care so much for, but she didn’t know exactly how, or how much, and what happened earlier with Thorne didn’t help.

She took another deep breath, realizing she had gotten to the place where the carriage tracks ended, right into the market, filled to the brim with templar guards and blighters and perhaps some people who could help her find Henry. Mentally measuring the situation Evie pushed all other thoughts aside and pulling her hood over her head, went to do what she did best.

 --

 The rain outside his window started with small cutting droplets, hitting his windows in small sharp sounds that had a great arrhythmic quality to them to them, that grew and grew into a really louder and louder as the drops grew fat and rumbling.

There was something so relaxing about the sounds of the rain, they always grew into something that sounded harmonious, a strange change from the arrhythmic chaos of the first few drops, it transformed, not even into order, but into percussion, beauty. The sound of rain was something that wasn’t right, becoming right and rhythmic once it became loud and strong enough.

The night hours always made Ned very poetic.

The thief laid back on his armchair, with a shot of whiskey besides him and a copy of one or another collection of Poe’s poems, which he read calmly, enjoying the sounds of rain and thunder outside as he started to read one of his favorite poems; “Alone”, when suddenly, it came into his view, a shadow from the outside.

That was when there was a loud bang on his window, making him jump back in fear, perhaps, that the words of the poem had suddenly became reality.

Not he would admit it, but maybe the fear of demons wasn’t that unreasonable in a city where Spring Heeled Jack was known to appear from time to time or maybe the Jersey Devil had crossed the Atlantic to pay him a visit.

“Ned?” The figure called and he knew that voice.

Ned frowned angrily as he stood up and went to open the window; “Frye, what the hell?”

“Thanks, lad!” Jacob said breathless as he came in, running his hand back and forth rapidly through his hair, shaking the rain in it all around, including Wynert’s face.

Ned held his hand up; “Agh, Frye! You’re spraying me like a dog!”

“That’s not like a dog.” Jacob said with a grin; “This is like a dog!” he bowed his head towards Ned and shook side to side, yes, just like a dog.

“DAMNIT, FRYE!!” The thief took the assassin’s hat from his hand and hit him with it. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

“It was raining, I was close to your house. I was thinking of staying here a little, until the storm passes.”

“Yeah, why is that? Are your sister and Henry kicking you out of the train so they can have some alone time, or what?” Jacob frowned at that, but said nothing of it, sitting on Ned’s sofa. “And now you’re getting my sofa wet as well.” He sighed. “What happened?”

“What?” Frye shrugged, confused.

“You’re like that the whole day! You smile for two seconds, then you get sad and angry, what the hell is going on?”

Jacob looked around for a second, a bit lost, he let out a bitter smile; “Did you know you have a great tendency to be right, Wynert?”

Without missing a beat, Ned responded; “Yes! It’s the usual. The downside is that, since I am always right, it’s sometimes hard to keep track of everything I warned others about, so… I was right about what now?”

“Well, you were right about how I shouldn't trust” he held himself back from calling her by her given name again;  “Attaway first, and now you were right about Roth.”

Ned said nothing, but sat besides him, observing Jacob intently.

“They both used me, both betrayed my trust and lied to me about their intentions.” He said, but as he spoke it occurred to him that least, Pearl was sincere about some of her intentions, and he consented to many things, perhaps too much. “You were right about something else as well.”

“What?”

Jacob opened his mouth and closed it again. “I better go.” He said suddenly and stood up walking towards the window.

“What? Frye, it’s raining still!” Wynert said standing up and following him.

“I am fine, I really need to go home.” Jacob opened the window, pulling his hood over his head to protect himself from the rain. “Don’t tell Evie any of this, alright?”

He shot his rope and just like that, he was gone.

Ned rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He had no idea what was going on, but he was growing more and more worried about Jacob, perhaps, tomorrow, he should pay him a visit, but now, there wasn’t much else he could go, but go back to his book and as he reached for it, he noticed that he still had Jacob’s had in his hand.

“Well.” He told himself, observing the hat carefully. “At least now I have a good reason to visit tomorrow.”

He put the hat on a rack and picked a different book, going for a comedy this time.

 

**Night:**

It seemed that didn’t matter how much they punched him, Henry would not express any reaction or open his mouth.

He had woken up just a few minutes before, tied to a chair. His cuts and bruises stung and throbbed, but the templar guards who got him were not attacking him, just keeping him hostage, feeling something heavy settling in the pit of his stomach, when he realized they were probably using him as bait, but the truth turned out to be much worst.

He had heard of the Hunters, originally, they were first created and trained by Shay Cormac, traitor of the Brotherhood, and their objective was none other than killing assassins using their own secrets against them, going so far as wearing hidden blades. Eliminating them was no easy task, and frankly, doing it wouldn’t have been able if Cormac star student didn’t betray the Templars and joined them.

Morrigan Hope Cormac did about as troughtral work killing off the hunter as her father did killing off the Colonial Assassins, the last one being her own brother, but Henry had heard rumor that some Templars were trying to rebuild that arm of their organization, but they haven’t attacked the assassins yet.

Now Henry knew why.

“So this is the dreaded Ghost.” The man was tall and imposing, with rippling muscles noticeable even under his heavy coat. He had short blond hair, unfashionably cut, icy blue eyes and was very pale. Everything about him was so cold and pale, he could be the living embodiment of an iceberg. “So, you’re Arbaaz Mir’s eldest huh?” He asked, his voice was deep and he had a slight accent… Russian? Maybe. Henry couldn’t tell. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Who are you?” Henry asked, calmly.

“Call me Leon, that’s all you’ll need to know.” He looked at Henry “Frankly, I am not here for you, Mr. Green.” The tall man moved away from Henry, and picked up something that looked like a cane, but with a much heavier looking handle. “I am here for the traitor.”

“Traitor?” Henry did his best confused expression.

Leon smile at. He held his cane like a club. “Now, Mr. Green, you know very well who I am talking about.” He lifted the cane. “Where is Miss Thorne?”

Henry’s eyes widened in surprise. He was expecting the Templars to come for her, they were known to be as resentful of their traitors as the assassins were, Morrigan Cormac’s story teached them as much, but fetch a templar all the way from Eastern Europe seemed a bit too much. What exactly did Lucy knew or had? Did she knew she had it?

“Mr. Green, if you don’t answer me, I’ll be forced to become violent.” Leon warned.

Henry said nothing and looking at Leon, he shrugged, steeling himself for the blows to come.

Pulling away from the tunnel, there was silence, then a sigh of frustration followed the sound of something heavy hitting flesh and bone and a scream of pain cutting through the night.

 --

 “You’re not a very good warden.” Lucy whispered and she pulled Jacob’s duvet over Clara’s sleeping form. For all of her bravado, it didn’t take long for the little girl to crash and fall asleep. Mr. Topping himself was sitting on the floor in front of the book shelves, his velvet maroon hat pulled over his eyes, legs extended, crossed over one another and arms crossed over his chest.

On her part the ex-templar didn’t feel any urge to sleep despite feeling tired, but being alone did take a toll on her mind, making her think of earlier on the same day. It was already past midnight, Miss and Mr. Frye were nowhere to be seen and the rain was still falling heavily outside, a rain she had to endure as she went back to Evie’s wagon to check on her book.

She was worried, and she told herself that it was over the possibility of Mr. Green knowing what was written in that paper, but the fact was that her thoughts turned to Evie and not the research.

Now she was actively trying to get her mind back to that, despite the fact that lacking Miss Frye’s “special power” she wouldn’t be able to actually tell where she might find some secret message. Still, she tried, picking up every paper she suspected had something that could be detected by Miss Frye specially sense, which included the book that Evie had stolen from her.

Thorne made her way back to the last two wagons, so absent mindedly examining her book, she barely registered that Mr. Topping was no longer on the floor.

What she did noticed, however, was that her wagons were completely dark. Frowning she moved in a more brisk pace, but when, in the shadows, she could swear she saw movement, it made her run towards it and opened the door, but there was no one there and everything seemed unperturbed, even the lights were on.

Puzzling.

“Are you alright, Milady?” Robert Topping asked, he had one hand behind his back, and the other holding a cup of tea.

“Yes, I just...” Lucy started to respond, when she noticed something. “Where were you, Mr. Topping?”

“Getting a drink.” He showed his cup and blew into the hot contents. “I was behind the balcony of the bar, putting sugar in my tea when you ran by, I thought there might had been a problem.”

“I see your haste to help me.”

“I really needed some tea.” He took a swig of the tea. “Delicious!” He smiled at her, as if what he said was deeply cleaver.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, nor she noticed Robert tugging a paper inside his coat as she walked by him, both hands behind her back.

“Oh, well, I better go, Miss Thorne.” Robert said “Don’t worry, I’ll take Clara home.”

She half-turned to him, looking at him over her shoulder; “I thought you had business with the Fryes...”

Robert moved to the sofa and took off his overcoat, putting it on top of Clara when he removed the covers, gently picking her up; “Well, it looks like one of those nights when neither will show up anytime soon.”

The suddenness of that decision didn’t pass unnoticed by Lucy, but she appreciated solitude way too much. Even as these two didn’t stood in her way much, she neither felt a necessity to be a gracious host nor did she care about business the Frye’s could have that didn’t involve her own objectives. “Have a good night then.”

“It was an honor meeting you, milady, and if you’re interested.” he pulled a card from the band of his hat; “I believe I could present you with a few challenges that might interest you.” He smiled and tipped his hat, leaving at the station with Clara on his arms.

 --

Henry prayed that Evie would come soon, he didn’t know how much more he could take. The Hunter was as strong as he relentless, but the assassin was as silent as he was enduring, so at one point the templar just decided to take a break.

Leon had beaten him up till he couldn’t anymore, till his arms became too tired to keep the beating going and his mouth was too dry to keep asking questions. He stopped a took a drink of water and then ordered all the blighters and guards to leave, ordered them to keep an eye out for Evie, as he took a break.

“You’re a resistant one.” Leon admitted, mopping his eyebrow with his scarf. “Is this really worth it, for someone like Thorne?” Henry said nothing, and Leon sighed. “You know, I have to assume Miss Frye will come for you. Now, she isn’t my target, but certainly, killing her would be a bonus, contrary to killing you. After all, she and that brother of hers are the problem, you’re not.”

Henry knew where this was going, but he wouldn’t let it get to him. Evie was coming, he was certain of it, he would be fine.

He chuckled. “How long have you lived in London, Green? Running and hiding like a scared animal when he hears the sound of shots in the forest, huh? You’re the most ineffective assassin I’ve ever seen. It took me a long time to believe you were actually the son of Arbaaz Mir.” Yet, Henry kept quiet, his eyes on the floor and his mouth firmly shut. “Yes, keep your eyes down. At least you know your place.”

Leon lifted his cane and, readying himself for his next attack, took a deep breath... Receiving a mouth full of smoke from it. It was a smoke bomb and it filled the whole room, he felt an attack coming and threw himself back just in time to avoid a hidden blade coming for his throat, falling to the floor. He fully expected the assassin to lunge for him again, but nothing happened.

“SHE IS HERE!!” He heard a blighter scream. “IN THE SMOKE! SHOOT!”

“WAIT!!” Leon screamed, but it was too late and he was shot multiple times. “YOU IDIOTS!!”

Meanwhile, Evie ran, Henry slumped over her shoulders as she used more smoke bombs to cover her escape, unable to care about killing any enemy, all that mattered was taking him to somewhere safe.

She was tired, running on fumes by this point, the muscles of her leg burned, barely able to hold herself, much less Henry’s weight, but she pushed forwards, the desire to save Henry firmly on her mind, but unfortunately, all that work, all that stress made her careless, so she didn’t even notice when she ran up the stairs that she was running into a market full of blighters.

The master assassin stopped right in front of them, surrounded by them, going back was of the question and she couldn’t run to the side with Henry over her shoulder like that, she looked around and, thinking fast, she threw a knife at the ropes holding a few barrels, which opened a path, she ran, managing to get to the exit, but her legs failed, too weak to carry her anymore, she felt, Henry flying from her shoulders, her legs cramping, blighters and templar guard approaching, all was lost.

“Boss?” Evie looked up, seeing a group of Rooks running, before she could even respond they jumped into action, engaging the blighters, one the brute rooks walking to her, offering her his hand.

“Here, boss, let me help you.”

“Thank you, but pick up Mr. Green.”

Another rook, a sniper took a knee besides Evie. “Jack! Bring the carriage, take the boss out of here!”

“Whatever you say, Liz!” A rook in a top hat said running to pick up the carriage.

The carriage soon came and she got inside with Henry as the big muscular rook and “Jack” drove them off, after Evie told him to take her to Miss Nightingale in Lambeth.

She pushed the hairs of his badly bruised face, swollen black, blue and bleeding; “Henry!” Evie called. “Henry, please, talk to me!”

“I am fine.” Henry said weakly and tried to smile, over his pain. “I knew you would come, Evie.”

She smiled at him, cupping his face between her hands and gently pulling him to her chest. “I’ll always come for you, Henry.”

Her voice was gentle, but her words made him question, and deep inside inside Henry’s mind, he truly asked himself if the templar was right.

 

(tbc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the time I took me to publish this, but the beginning of this year was not the best, so that hindered my ability to write greatly, but here it is... Not my best chapter, but... Sorry... AT LEAST YOU GOT TWO HOT MAKE OUT SCENES FROM IT!! EH, EH???... Sorry >


	5. Love Shock

_ It was past midnight when the little girl sneaked away from the house, in her hand a dagger shone under the moonlight, her feet bare on the grass and all she had on was a rather light nightgown, fortunately night wasn’t that cold and the little girl hardly cared, as she walked to the edge of the forest. She looked back, over her shoulders before getting in, she let her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness before pressing forwards between the trees. _

_ The little girl looked around. At night those trees and leaves were not as familiar as they were during the day, but she moved, avoiding the roots that raised slightly above the ground and it still didn’t took her much time to reach the clearing. For safety’s sake she took her time to observe her surroundings, the full moon illuminating everything she needed to see. _

_ She hadn’t brought a candle or a lantern, logic dictated that not only those would attract too much attention, but if other people were passing through they would be more likely to be carrying either one, giving her the opportunity to detect them before they could see her. _

_ With a last look around, making sure she was alone, she held out her dagger, her eyes determined. She lunged forwards, striking the air in front of her, with a twirl she attacked again, putting strength and energy in every movement, perhaps a little too much. She didn’t know exactly what she was aiming for, the little girl had no instructions whatsoever, so all she could do was imitate the very little of sword fighting she had seen in the theater with her uncle.  _

_ Earlier that summer, her uncle William had taken her to watch “Buccaneers”, something her parents certainly would have not approved had they knew, saying that wasn’t the kind of story for a little girl, since it contained fighting, criminals, a secret magical treasure and, most shocking, Mary Read was a character, her presence being revealed only in the second act, when she revealed her secret to Dreaded Pirate Edward, the main character… It was probably her favorite play. _

_ The thought of her heroine and determination made her distracted by the world around her, unaware of the fact she was being observed by interested eyes, as she attacked the air with the furry a swashbuckling hero. _

_ “If you keep attacking like that you’ll waste all of your energy before the fight even truly start.” Lucy jumped back and looked around, her dagger in hand, ready to attack, though she lowered it when she realized she knew the voice. _

_ Miss Fairfax slowly walked into the moonlight of the clearing, arms crossed over her chest, her face was still cast in shadows. _

_ Lucy’s emotions went from relief to fear, her mind racing with the possible consequences of having her governess discovering her in the clearing at that time. _

_ “Miss Fairfax...” The little girl said breathlessly and her governess raised her head, making her face now illuminated by the moon. Something in her governess’ eyes shone, from where Lucy stood, in her fear, she wasn’t able to tell what it was, but it was amusement. For miss Fairfax seeing a little girl as brave as Miss Thorne scared was a bit funny, the young one wouldn’t bow her head to or fear anyone she didn’t already respect. _

_ “You’re wasting your energy attacking like that.” She walked more into the light and her squared face had a smile on it. “You’re holding that dagger wrong as well.” Miss Fairfax held her hand and positioned the dagger in her hand. “Close your hand, doesn’t it feel firmer this way.” Lucy did and she was right. _

_ “Yes!” She said excitedly. ‘You’re not angry at me?“ _

_ The governess frowned; “A little. You left the house in the middle of the night, no shoes, just your nightgown and a dagger--” _

_ “Papa said I couldn’t learn fencing, I was going to do it by myself!” The little redhead protested. “This is not fair! Why can’t I--” She got cut by her governesses’ raised hand. _

_ “Lucy,” Miss Fairfax said calmly, but firmly, “there is no justification for what you did. Something could have happened to you.” _

_ “Such as what? Being attacked by lions?” _

_ “Miss Thorne!” Miss Fairfax crossed her arms and the girl jumped back. _

_ “Sorry!” she hastily said, “I just… Don’t think it’s fair.” _

_ The governess sighed. “That’s true.” and the little girl looked up surprised. “You saw something you thought unfair and rebelled against it, congratulations,” she conceded, but soon added; “still, you did in a rather irresponsible way, but I guess, there is some merit to doing what you have to do.” Miss Fairfax looked away. _

_ Lucy crooked her head at that, looking at the governess with a puzzled expression. Miss Fairfax was like no other governess she had before. First of all, she didn’t try to quit after a week, but also, well to be fair, she was like no other woman that Lucy had ever met. Even at a young age, Lucy knew that her parents hadn’t fired her only because she was one of the few people that could get the girl to behave in social situations, so noveau rich, desperate for respect such as Mr. and Mrs. Thorne had no problem tolerating a few oddities. _

_ Miss Fairfax looked at her and smiled. “If you want to learn, I can teach you.” _

_ “YES, I WANT IT!” Lucy responded, without missing a beat. _

_ “Tomorrow then.” Miss Fairfax picked her up in her arms. “You’re freezing cold.” she said, holding her against her chest for warmth, unaware that the young girl, however, was too excited to feel cold. _

 

**Morning:**

“Miss Frye.” Miss Nightingale shook her shoulder lightly and Evie jolted, awake and a worried; “Henry?” Was the first word out of her mouth as she looked around suddenly alert.

“He is fine, Miss Frye.” Miss Nightingale smiled at her. “He is resting, all of his wounds are patched up and he will recover. I just came to ask if you don’t prefer sleeping on a bed.”

Evie rubbed her eyes, tired; “What time is it?”

"Six in the morning." She responded and, anticipating Evie's next question, added; "The nurses and I spend the night taking care of Mr.Green, when I came back you had just fallen asleep on the chair." 

"I had a rough week..." Evie admitted, throwing her head back. "I guess I was tired." She put her hand on her face. “I can’t believe I fell asleep while Henry--”

"Don’t worry Miss Frye.” Florence put her hand on her shoulder in such a comforting manner that only she could; “You’ve done enough, even get hurt yourself from what I see." 

“Hum?” Looked at her, puzzled. Until that moment, Evie had the impression nothing had touched her, well, aside from her own leg muscles failing her, but she could swear the Rooks had saved her before the blighters and the templar guard got to them.

This bruise Miss Frye.” She examined it. “Did you got it during the fight?” The nurse asked and gently touched a bruise on Evie’s neck.

Evie blushed deeply, in her mind the echoing sound of her own breathless voice moaning Thorne’s name as she made that mark on her. Evie moved her hand so quickly to cover it, fortunately, she didn’t used double hidden blades like Jacob, since, in her haste, had she had an assassin gauntlet, she might had accidentally activated her hidden blade and killed herself in the stupidest way possible; “Oh, don’t worry about this, it isn’t hurting or anything. I… I think I would like the bed, I do think I need some sleep badly.”

“Follow me, Miss Frye, I have a room ready.”

Minutes later, after throwing her overcoat over a nearby table and removing boots that were very much cursed at by her for being so difficult, Evie was slumped up over a hospital bed, her body so tired, that the uncomfortable mattress might as well had been a cloud in heaven itself, while the thin pillow could had been made from the feathers of angels.

Her mind however, was still racing and few things are worst than an active mind yearning to think in a tired body yearning to rest, yet she forced her eyes closed, willing herself to sleep among thoughts of Henry, Lucy and herself, of her dream, of what she felt and how she felt and how undeniably more beautiful they both became when she was too tired to deny they were both appealing to her, followed immediately by the feeling of guilty, for getting Henry hurt, for wanting a templar, for thinking of those things at that moment, as Henry was lying in a bed in a room near her’s, while her mind wandered. 

When Henry was passed out in his hospital bed, she wondered what would be like to kiss him, something she obviously didn’t do, kissing someone that was in no position to allow themselves to be kissed, but even the thought was enough to make her ask herself if it would feel different from kissing Lucy.

How it would be kissing both and being kissed by both, have both of them hugging, kissing her and touching her body all over-- Her eyes snapped open, as the weight of those thoughts sunk in her mind and the guilty and ashamed for even thinking those things, and letting that feeling take over her mind and body even for a second overcame her with a fury.

Forcing herself to concentrate on her breathing, forcing it away from the accelerated pace her memories called for, keeping her legs apart and relaxed, despite knowing that clamping them together would bring some relief to her pulsating core. She knew that relieving that urge by her own hand would probably get her to sleep faster, but she kept both her hands firmly under her pillow, she ignored everything and eventually her tired body won over her her screaming mind.

The whole battle felt like an eternity, but it lasted no more than five minutes before she passed out.

 

\--

 

Lucy had slept in the last wagon, body slumped over her desk, both arms crossed under her face, like a schoolgirl that was forced to sit in a class for a particularly boring subject, which was not something she was used to, since she went to St. Trinian’s Finishing School and there were rarely any boring subjects there, she was just mentally exhausted the night before and fell asleep on her, something that, as she woken up, she regretted.

The redhead opened her eyes, realizing her surroundings and moved her head up, at a normal speed at first, but the pull on her muscle made her groan in pain and move more slowly and even that that pace it hurt, but she managed to lift her head and carefully stretched her neck, rubbing the sore muscles in it with her hand.

Truth was, she should had gone to bed the night before, but she hadn’t wanted to and despite what she would tell others, the real reason was clearly to leave the damn bed free for Miss Frye, which could had been made obvious if she took the assassin’s place on the floor, but perhaps too obvious.

After stretching, Thorne started to make her way to the other side of the train, she looked at her pocket watch, ten o’clock sharp, Miss Frye was probably sleeping, so she didn’t really wanted to go into her wagon and risk waking the assassin, not after sacrificing her own sleep for her, so instead Lucy went into the wagon bar, the only place where she could make some tea aside from Evie’s wagon. Getting there she went behind the bar, barely noticing the group of rooks sitting on the booth.

“Shit, there she is.” One mumbled under his breath and then looked at Lucy over his shoulder.

“We don’t have to tell her.” A female rook sitting in front of him said, sneaking a peek at Miss Thorne.

“We gotta tell  **someone** !” A third one sitting besides the lady, said. He took his top hat for a second and ran his fingers through his head pulling the attention of the other’s back to the table.

“Let’s tell the boss!” The woman said.

“Do you want to wake him up? He looks so tired, it would be cruel to do that.” The first one pointed out.

“Yeah, but he is the only one! We can’t just tell her!” The female rook said.

“Why not?” The third one said.

The whole argument went in circles like this for a few minutes, so long in fact, they didn’t didn’t notice Miss Thorne finish her task and come to stand besides the booth calmly steering her tea with a raised eyebrow.

“Look, this is important!” Said the man in the top hat, after about half a minute of them not noticing her at all. “We can’t just wait the boss to wake up to tell him! We have to tell Miss Thorne!”

“Tell me what?” Lucy asked, taking a sip of her tea, but sneering at it right after. “Ugh.”

“Is there a problem ma’am?” The female rook asked.

“My tea is not very good.” Thorne explained with an expression of contempt, the taste taking her out of the moment. “I love it, but can never prepare it right. It always ends up tasting like hot leaf juice.” Evie’s tea on the other hand, was frankly one of the best Lucy ever had. Another disadvantage to not having the assassin up and about.

“Well, isn’t that what tea is, Ma’am.” The bigger rook who was neither a woman nor wearing a top hat said with a shrug and a joking smile, and as retribution he got Miss Thorne giving him a look that made him feel that had he doubted of the honor of Mrs. Thorne he would had angered the woman less.

Lucy took another sip of her tea and decided to go back to the more important subject: “Forget that; what is it that you are debating telling me or waiting till Mr Frye awakes to tell him, after all?”

“Well, ma’am” the one with the top hat started talking, looking at his friends, “something happened last night.”

 

\--

 

Starrick followed Lord Cardigan’s pacing with his tired eyes.

“How am I supposed to move on with this plan?” The Hussar asked nervously. “They must know about me! I am certain, that woman must have told them! Why else would they care so much about protecting her? I--” He was silenced by a languid hand gesture from Starrick, as the door to the office opened.

“Mr. Orlov.” Crawford said to the young blond man that came in and made a gesture of acknowledgement to both him and Lord Cardigan.. “Already on your feet, I see?”

Leon walked in, with a slight limp and a bandaged hand, but showing no other signs that he had been shot about seven times just the night before, back straight and figure as imposing as usual..

“Of course, sir, a few bullets wouldn’t keep me down.” The Russian man said with a smile. His full name was Leonid Vladnovitch Orlov, his father, Vladmir Orlov was a respected Russian templar, Crawford had introduced him to Cardigan the day before.

Crawford observed all of that with an arched eyebrow; “So your wounds don’t bother you at all?”

“Nothing vital was hurt. All I needed was a good night of sleep. I am, of course, embarrassed by my ridiculous limp, but I am fine otherwise. As a matter of fact, I apologize for my lateness.”

Cardigan raised an eyebrow at the awkward wording, the presence of the younger man causing him to put his back straight and his chest to fill with air.

“That is no problem Mr. Orlov.” Crawford said. “However, your failure yesterday...”

The large Russian man lowered his eyes in respect towards Crawford; “I am quite ashamed of it myself, sir. Miss Frye caught me by surprise, I usually have a better--”

“Oh yes, you should be!” Cardigan cut in not realizing the side eye that Leon gave him for it. “They probably know everything now! Twopenny is dead, the economy almost fell apart, thank the LORD, they managed to find the plates, but still, you can’t even eliminate that traitor!”

“Brudenell!” Starrick called out. “Be quiet, I make the decisions and I say the plan will go on as it was discussed before.”

“But that Frye--”

“Doesn’t matter!” Starrick said emphatically. “Carry on as planed. Now leave!”

Lord Cardigan looked both livid and offended, but just bowed his head and left.

“What a stupid man.”

Starrick said nothing, but obviously couldn’t disagree; “He is useful, like Miss Thorne once was.” He looked at Orlov. “Now she is a problem, a problem you have to eliminate.” He took a deep breath. “However, I do believe that eliminating her now might not be a good idea, not with the Fryes protecting her to the point your persuasion of Mr. Green wouldn’t make him talk.”

“My techniques usually work.” Leon pointed out.

“Indeed.” Starrick bowed his head in agreement. “Yet, I do believe we shall now wait for the right moment. Some information for a very trustworthy source tells me we might have more time than we know.” Crawford walked to Leon’s side and put his hand in the much taller man’s shoulder. “For today, you can rest. Tomorrow, you assume control of the blighters that still exist, and we put our plan in motion.”

“Plan?” Leon asked puzzled.

Crawford looked at him with an indecipherable expression. “Tomorrow, now, rest.” He indicated the door.

With a bow and no more questions, the Russian left.

 

**Afternoon:**

Henry looked out of his window, his expressive eyebrows scrunched, revealing the turmoil inside his head. He had tried to leave that morning, only to find he couldn’t put any weight on his broken leg, so he was now laying back on his bed, his lunch going cold in the tray besides him, he felt no hunger, nor desire to eat.

Sister Nightingale had told him that Evie had slept in a chair waiting for him to recover and once again, he felt like a burden, someone to feel sorry for, specially someone who was as good at their job as she was. 

As far as assassins went, Henry was a lousy one. He had no desire to harm or kill. He could have had, several times, in fact, he could have killed Lucy herself of all people. 

The opportunity presented itself when he was infiltrated among the blighters a few years back to try and he manage to wiggle his way into the group in charge of helping Miss Thorne unload her discoveries as soon as she made her way back from the excavation in the Portuguese and Spanish border. He was careful when carrying the boxes, something that rendered him some praise from the woman herself. 

She had been close, very close. He could have ended her, but he wasn’t able to. Maybe it was her praise towards him, her cold but sincere good wish that he would make it in London, maybe it was because she looked so very tired from the trip and it felt cowardly to attack someone like that, but the fact he couldn’t attack someone that had calmly talked to him just because he was actually being careful while carrying the boxes.

When she approached him, he tried to make a decision if he would kill her or not, all the while he tried to keep his face hidden under his green hat, made his voice higher and his accent thicker, keeping his face out of her view and fortunately Lucy Thorne didn’t seem the type to remember the faces of a worker she would probably never see again. At one point, he unsheathed his hidden blade when she turned her back, but decided instead to commit her features to memory, making a drawing of her, for an assassin that was much braver than he was to eliminate her when the time came.

That would be Evie, but alas things didn’t go that way. Instead Evie ended up with a bullet from Lucy Thorne’s gun grazing her leg. The whole time while she recovered from injury, all he could think was how he almost killed her, but the twists and turns of the last week or now made things so much more complicated.

Lucy, now that was a problem. That Hunter, Leon, was clearly after her “kill the traitor” the Russian said, he needed to warn her, but now he could barely even move, much less go warn or protect Thorne. He couldn’t tell Evie either, suddenly now she somehow seemed to dislike Miss Thorne more than she did when she was just their enemy and due to that, he suspected that if she knew, the assassin could turn against their ally. Henry really didn’t wanted that. He had to tell Thorne, if anyone revealed that to Evie, it should be her, while aware of the consequences, so he could only sit and wait. Maybe when Jacob came to see them. He couldn’t wait so long, he felt, so instead, he sent a message

Lucy showed up that afternoon.

“Hello, Mr. Mir.” She asked, in the calmest voice Henry ever saw her use, he was surprised by both and and her presence. Quietly, she walked to sit besides his bed.

“Miss Thorne.” He said surprised.

“How are you doing?”

“Well enough.” He smiled. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“I was planing to come even before your message.” She admitted, “The Rooks told me what happened.” She said.

What she didn’t say was that, after that, she moved immediately. Using the power she had based only on the implied authority that living with their bosses gave her, she ordered the rooks to keep guard on the Lambeth Asylum, while she herself woke up Jacob to tell him what happened. She was quite nervous, so his laughter and complete lack of worry for his sister and superior annoyed her a bit, in fact, Jacob didn’t seem worried at all, pulling his hat over his eyes and going back to sleep. That infuriated her, but also made her refrain to visiting them sooner, fortunately, Henry’s message gave her the the excuse she was looking for.

“Good, thank you for coming. Do you know how Evie is?”

“No, they told me she is sleeping and I decided to not disturb her.” Lucy stood up and put both hands behind her back, standing straight. “You however, were already awake.”

“That’s actually very good, I wanted to talk to you.” Henry said, sitting up on his bed, assuming a more serious position.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, puzzled; “Me? Why?”

“I haven’t told Evie, but the person who did this to me was after you.” He looked at her just in time to see her other eyebrow raise in surprise. “He was a hunter and said his name was Leon.” Lucy’s became pale at that, but forced her face into an expression of calm.

“He tried to get information from you didn’t he?” It was a question by mere convenience of saying something and avoid an awkward silence, she knew he had.

“I gave him nothing.” The assassin said, quickly. “You’re our ally now I wouldn’t--”

“I know, Mr. Mir.” Lucy gave him a serious look. “You’re very good at what you do, I didn’t think for a second you had.” a half smile came to her lips as she walked towards and look out of the window “I can tell by the fact I am still alive. Besides, you’re a smart man and I am an asset.”

“You’re not an asset!” Henry said suddenly, his eyes going wide when he realized what he sounded like; “I mean, you are, but that’s not just it. You’re an ally and you saved my life.”

“Thank you.” Lucy said simply. At this point she was in better control of her countenance so Henry couldn’t quite read her. “Does Frye knows?”

“No, I decided not to tell her.”

Thorne gave him a puzzled look, but soon the reason occurred to her. “You fear Miss Frye might not be as candid about my presence if she knew that I am going to be that much trouble?”

“Maybe, I just… I rather ask you first.” Henry said.

“I am touched,” Her tone was undecipherable “but I rather just tell her. If she gets angry, well” she shrugged her shoulders and sighed “it would be understandable. You are tremendously valuable.” 

“Outside of a fight, perhaps.” Henry forced a smile, trying to sound charming, and succeeding slightly. “I am not very good, as far as assassins go.”

“Why?”

“Never been very good at killing people.”

“Measuring their members based only on that is rather stupid.” She said simply, with a sneer of disdain. “Without you, the Fryes would have never made it in London. Miss Frye is very smart, but the time she would waste collecting information would hinder her long enough to be killed.  Mr Frye’s brash ways would get him killed by the gangs eventually, maybe working together they would have gotten somewhere, but not far. Trust me, being in the trade business, information and how to use it is more important than anything else and if the assassins think so-” She stopped herself from insulting the creed, and she wished to, and instead added; “Pearl was never a lesser member of the order because she was not a good fighter.” There was grief in her voice, but she took a deep breath and continued; “They owe you very much.”

Henry looked at her and his voice ringed true and sincere when he spoke; “Thank you, Miss Thorne.”

“Well.” Lucy said, approaching his bed. “Go rest, I’ll tell Miss Frye about Orlov myself.” She walked towards the door.

“Orlov?” He asked, surprised.

“Leonid Vladinovich Orlov. That was the man that tortured you, Mr. Mir.” She looked at him. “I am sure Miss Frye will want to pay back the favor.” Lucy turned to leave but before she could, Evie came in, closing the door behind her, and just when she was already in the room she saw Lucy.

Their gazes met and Evie froze on the spot, her eyes went from Lucy to Henry, back to the ex-templar again quickly, wondering what she was doing there, for the second time that day, the memories of the day before coming back to her mind and blush coming to her cheeks. On her part, Lucy, feeling her discomfort, spoke;

“Miss Frye.” She bowed her head slightly. “A few of your Rooks told me what happened. I decided to drop by to pay you and Mr. Mir a visit.” The redhead explained, in perfect control of her countenance.

“Thank you for your consideration, Miss Thorne.” Evie said cooly and walked past, without as much as a glance towards her, straight to Henry’s bed, sitting in a chair besides it reaching for his hand; “How are you, Mr Green?”

Evie’s voice was kind and sweet when she spoke, there was softness in her eyes when she looked at him coming into the room, in the way she held his hand, while the other woman just observed it from her place, her expression unreadable, as she took a few steps towards the two, making the assassin’s expression change for a second when she heard the clicking of the redhead’s heels.

“I am much better honestly.” Henry said with sincerity. “Unfortunately, I don’t think my leg will recover so soon.” He lamented, pretending not to notice the weird air that now hung on the room now. “I think I’ll be unable to help for sometime.”

“I’ll stay with you, ‘till you recover.” Evie said, squeezing his hand. “It’s all my fault you got captured.”

Henry’s eyes went wide; “No, Miss Frye--”

“That might be your fault, but he was only tortured because of me.” Lucy cut in, with an excessive amount of sincerity.

“What?” Evie stood up.

“If the objective was to attract you, they wouldn’t have hurt him.” Thorne pointed out in a sharply condescending tone, at least in Evie’s ears. “When I inquired about that, Mr. Mir told me that the man who tortured him called himself Leon and asked about me.” There wasn’t a point to wait for another moment to tell Evie and Lucy would rather speak out at once.

She also decided right after to stand her ground, unmovable as a rock as the assassin walked towards her, an angry frown deep on her forehead, her mouth started to open, teeth bared.

Fortunately Henry cut in before she could say anything; “It not the fault of either of you! We all did our duties and I do not need to protected like a child!” His last words came out a bit angrier than he intended. “Sorry.” He said right after.

Evie turned to him; “Henry--”

“Miss Frye, you were telling me yesterday about some findings that you and Miss Thorne made. You said something about some greek writings you could only read with eagle vision. You’ll need someone to help you with that, since I am here.”

“I can do it,” Lucy said “I’ve never learned greek formally, but I do have enough knowledge and dictionaries about the subject to be able to work it out, I just thought that you two would be better because I don’t have eagle vision like Miss Frye. Perhaps your knowledge combined with her capacity would be better.”

“Maybe, but from what Miss Nightingale told me, I’ll have to stay here for some time more. You’ll have to work this together.” He looked at Evie; “We’ll need your talents for this.”

“I rather stay!” She said, her words more hasty than she expected.

Henry looked her right in the eyes; “The mission is more important, Evie. Go with Miss Thorne.”

The mission… Evie frankly didn’t know if there was a way to save the mission anymore. If the key was not letting her personal feelings get in the way, it was too late, it didn’t matter where she went now.

Yet, she just nodded.

 

\--

 

Perhaps saying that Jacob was working as the bodyguard of the Disraelis was stretching things a bit, unless you would call ‘stalking someone to make sure they are fine’ counts as being their bodyguard, but that was Jacob for you. It would had been easier to just ask Lucy who the hell was the last templar, because they knew it was one more, but the gang leader didn’t want that, he had been doing that without even Evie’s help, to ask for Lucy Thorne’s would be too much for him.

This time, fortunately, he had a clue, he knew that there would be an attempt at the Prime Minister’s life that afternoon at the Sinopean Club a very exclusive place, but that was no problem for a soon-to-be (as he believed) master assassin, and indeed he had success, managing to sneak in and eavesdrop until the Disraeli left, followed by a man.

Jacob smiled, running after the man and tackling him.

“B, I presume!” The assassin said, feeling excessively proud of his competence and cleverness.

“B? My name is Herbert!” And those were the unfortunate man’s last words before having his brains blown out by a rifle shot, it wasn’t hard for Jacob to localize the shooter, a woman standing atop a nearby building.

“Cheeky bastard.” He whispered, before running after the sniper.

He had no idea who that poor bastard was, Herbert, or Hubert, rest his soul whatever his name was, having his brains blown up by that damn blighter and he couldn’t help but feel he had, once again, done things wrong. Still, right now that gave him determination to dodge a few bullets and reach the sniper, he engaged her and a specially well thrown punch, knocked her out.

A few hours later, after a very exciting round of ‘hold the hired trigger on the end of a building till they talk’, Jacob was sitting on a bar with a tankard of beer in his hand, as he lounged back onto his chair.

Maybe he should have had asked Lucy about who the person trying to get the prime minister killed was. It was not like Evie, Henry and him were risking themselves by keeping her around for nothing, he couldn’t help but think as he took a swig from his beer. He shouldn’t be drinking, after all, he still had work to do that same day, but to hell with it, so many things happening lately, and lacking the time to go visit Ned, the one friend he still felt he could count on, he needed a drink.

He looked at the Big Ben from his bar, seeing it was time to move, he took the last swig of his beer at once, standing and leaving. According to what that sniper had told him, there was a group to attack the Prime Minister and his wife that very day, and now it was finally time to offer his services to the honourable minister and his lovely wife.

Jacob reached Downing Street not one minute too late. The ambush wasn’t under way yet and he couldn’t help but feel that it would probably a successful one without him there, taking in account how easily he slipped into the carriage, surprising both of the occupants.

“Good afternoon Prime Minister, Mrs, Disraeli,” he said with a smile “I am your new bodyguard.”

 

\--

 

The whole trip back to the train station was silent, but silence can be loud when you both know what you’re thinking about and your mind is drowning in doubt and unasked questions. To make matters worse the fact was; neither wanted to say it, neither wanted to mention or talk about it, but both needed to and both knew that.

Perhaps another time, when there weren’t more pressing matters at hand and that was what the assassin thought as she walked towards a neatly organized stack of papers on top of the desk and eagerly asked; “Are these the papers you wanted me to examine?”

Lucy nodded with a half smile; “Yes.”

Evie looked at them for a second, secretly thankful there was work to do; “They don’t appear to be much special, I am afraid.” She said. “These are some really old, really ineffective techniques.” The master assassin pointed out. “Probably made before Altaïr reformed the brotherhood.”

“I did realized that,” Thorne was about as eager to get into work for reasons, unbeknown to her, very similar to the ones Evie herself held “they are the same ones that the templars described in their first contact with the assassins in the crusades, but...” The redhead pointed at the side of one of them. “See these markings? They are from a very peculiar way of bounding books.”

Evie frowned; “These came from the Assassin’s library in Masyaf.” The assassin recognized the seal present in what left was left of the binding, not to mention, the style itself. “The one that Altair sent with Marco Polo to Italy.”

“Correct!” For the first time in a few days, Lucy’s voice showed some enthusiasm. “You know the page I showed you?” As an answer, the assassin produced the page from her inside her coat. “Ah, yes, that one” Lucy picked it up and put it aside on the table; “See how they are all bound in the same way?” To demonstrate, she stood besides the assassin, their faces side by side, showing that the pages fit perfectly together when looked from the binding.

“Not that perfectly.” Evie’s eyes picked up at a small imperfection right through the middle of the book.

Thorne’s response was picking up the page that Evie had and put it in its place inside the book.

The younger woman saw that, now, the gap was gone; “Oh.”

“As I said, Miss Frye, they do fit perfectly together.” Lucy looked at her. “So I was asking myself, if was possibly like the Codex of Altaïr when it come to the hidden messages, that was why I showed you a page right from the middle of it, I figured that if there was something there it was likely it would be visible in the central page.”

“Clever.” Evie said, and started to put the pages apart, she concentrated, her eagle vision lighting the invisible writing in. There were words, of course, but also drawings, the greater context being able to give her a better idea of what it was trying to communicate. This was very much like the codex of Altaïr or at least the description she read of it, the drawings and writings bled from one page into another, like parts of a larger puzzle.

Frye frowned and started to empty the large table of anything that wasn’t the pages.

“I assume you found something.” Thorne said, moving to help move the books and annotations from the table, folding one and pocketing it and then continuing to remove the others.

“I think so.” Evie replied, putting the adjacent pages to the central one beside one another on the table, rotating them when needed. For her it was a task of concentration, but for Lucy it was a whole lot of what looked like unrelated pages being nonsensically arranged, something boring to look at by itself, but observing the assassin however, was probably much more entertaining, so subtly, that was what the redhead did.

Evie’s concentrated brow and observant eyes were far more interesting to look at, specially since Thorne was already getting quite used to the fact she sometimes just couldn’t avoid looking at her when she could, from the tip of her upturned nose to the curve of her earlobe, the slope of her soft lips, to the mark she herself left on the neck the day before. 

It was when the redhead realized she had counted all the freckles in her face, all one hundred and forty seven of them, that she realized she had completely lost it for a girl that, while attracted to her was also obviously in love with--

“I think I found something.” Evie said, cutting her thoughts short. “I can’t read a word, but it looks a bit like a diagram. Something about the beads on the necklace of the key, I mean, I saw that--” She hesitated. “when you showed me it before, but now I believe I have more details.”

The ex-templar moved into action rather quickly, perhaps a bit thankful for the assassin silencing her thoughts, giving the assassin pen and paper; “Here, try to copy the words as they are written for me.”

Evie sat down on the chair and started to do so. Despite her lacking Greek, she knew the letters well enough to copy them in a legible manner, which Lucy went on reading over her shoulders, her body inclined over the Assassin’s head to read it from her standing position, causing the young woman to blush without stopping her work.

“We need a source of electricity.” Lucy said, lowering her head closer to the assassin’s so she could read and point out a word. “Equivalent to lightning.”

“Why?” Evie turned to her, being suddenly startled by her close presence.

“A secret message should be revealed if we manage to conduct that kind of energy through it.” She pointed at the word, turning her head slightly to her. “Do you have any idea where we might--” Evie’s breath on her neck made her studder “--uh, might be able to reveal it.” She snapped back up. “If I still had Brewster’s laboratory.” The redhead lamented, getting the opportunity to step away from her.

Evie looked outside the window, the skies were grey and heavy. She saw a lightning shine over Lambeth, making Evie jump and surprising Thorne;

“I would never guess you were so afraid of lightning, Miss Frye.” The redhead quipped, raises eyebrow.

The Assassin ignored the quip; “I know who can help us,” She smiled, “we need to get to Lambeth!” She threw Lucy’s coat at her.

“Why? Who can help us?” Thorne asked, putting her coat on, despite her confusion.

Frye smiled at her; “Alec!”

 

**Evening:**

Lucy looked up to the sky as Evie knocked on the door of a workshop in Lambeth, the sun was setting, but there was no orange glow in the clouds, just cold grey. Rain was coming, obviously heavy and punishing, whoever this Alec was, Thorne was hoping their meeting would be brief.

She heard the door opening and turned around;

“Och, Miss Frye!” A tall man with dirty blond hair and a scottish accent evident in the very few words spoken.

“Alec, it’s so good to see you.” Evie said with a smile.

“Oh, I feel the same.” A lightning rip through the sky “Och, there is rain coming, you better come in and--” He looked up, seeing Lucy’s face for the first time. “Lucy Thorne?” Alec sounded very surprised as the two women came into his house.

He closed the door and came to stand in front of her, his face a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“Mr. Bell.” Lucy said with a slight bow of her head. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Again?” Evie looked at her, but Alec cut in, abruptly asking;

“What is she doing here?” He looked tense as he spoke.

“I’ve seen you’ve met Miss Thorne.” Evie said, tiredly.

“Yes!” Alec took a step back. “Miss Thorne made a job offering to me shortly after I got to London.”

Lucy shrugged and smiled; “You were making quite a name for yourself.” The redhead looked at Evie; “I am guessing I have the honor of meeting the inventor of your voltaic bombs, after all.” The only response the assassin gave was raising an eyebrow and a slight upwards curvature on her eyebrow.

Alexander looked confused and surprised, his eyes darting from one woman to the other; “You know she works for Starrick, right?”

“Not anymore.” Evie and Lucy said at the same time, surprising one another.

Thorne cleared her throat; “My loyalties shifted, Mr. Bell.”  _ Shortly after Crawford shifted his’  _ she thought with a certain amount of bitterness.

Alec looked at her, then at Evie, unsure of it.

“I trust her.” Evie said suddenly, to the surprise of both. “I need you to trust me on that, because we need your help.” She produced the beads from her pocket, the key was no longer attached to it. “We need to find a way to electrify these.”

“Uh… I am sorry, Miss Frye, but that doesn’t sound very, well...” He cut himself and laughed, embarrassed. “How much energy, do you have an idea? What kind of generator do you think we would need?”

“A lightning strike.” Lucy said simply.

“Oi! That’s insane!” Alec jumped back; “Look at these! Passing that kind of energy through them would do no good--” stopped suddenly, examining the beads; “Och, I… I can’t believe this.” 

“What is it Alec?”

He hesitated “Doesn’t matter, this is insanity.”

“Alec, please!” Evie looked at her friend with pleading eyes. “This is very important! I need this as soon as possible.”

“Miss Frye, Evie I--” he looked conflicted “What am I supposed to do? Go to the top of the Big Ben, hook this thing up, wait for lightning and hope this isn’t a completely mad idea?”

The assassin smiled widely at him; “You think you could do that?”

Alec’s wide eyes darted from one woman to the other, and as he walked to his carriage followed by the two of them, he asked himself exactly in what he gotten himself into.

 

**\--**

 

Ned hesitated for a second before moving to open his window after hearing a knock in it. As he suspected, it was Jacob. He sighed loudly;

“Frye. Your bird will be ready in a week, what do you want?” Ned didn’t even looked as Jacob came in, going to prepare some drinks for himself..

“Can’t a man visit a friend?” Jacob let himself fall sitting on the sofa.

Ned let out a chuckle; “Why am I having a deja-vu?” He turned to Jacob and offered him a glass. “Do you have no other excuses?”

Jacob shook his head with an sarcastically apologetic expression. “No, can’t do.” And took a sip.

Ned couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Alright.”

“I was trying to avoid the rain.” Jacob shrugged, but inside he was suddenly asking himself why he was gravitating towards Ned so much lately. It used to be that when the day was done, he wanted to go back to the train and have a few drinks with his rooks, maybe talk to Evie a bit, but now, ever since Thorne had joined them, his sister seemed even more absent than usual, and Thorne herself didn’t seem to like his company much either. Ned on the other hand; “I also really like your company.” He added after a long silence.

“I am flattered, Frye.” Was the response, but it was strangely neutral.

“I don’t like that tone.” The gang leader said, using laughter to hide some mild concern.

Those words made the smaller man turn his head towards Jacob and frown; “Oh shut up.”

The taller man laughed, relieved and playfully put his arm around over the sofa’s back-rest, hovering just above Ned’s shoulders. “Admit it, you love having my company here.” The grin on his face was rather charming;

The thieves’ answer was an eyeroll. “Drink your Bourbon, Frye.” He took a sip of his own drink; ”So, want to go out? You look like you could use some fun.” 

Jacob look dubious about that, frowning with an exaggerated expression of displeasure. “I am kinda tired today, I wouldn’t want to go anywhere too loud.”

Ned thought for a minute; “Chess?” Jacob shook his head vigorously, “Pub?”

“And do nothing there aside from drinking? We can drink here.” Frye pointed out.

After thinking for sometime; “Want to play some billiards?” Ned offered.

This suggestion was finally met with vigorous nodding

 

**Night:**

_ “Whatever happened to the fairest of them all?” those are words that had been in the back of my mind for years. I had no idea what they meant, but now with this knowledge I think I might discover something.  _

_ In every version of the legend she is there; Power or knowledge, both losing their place for love when the choice came, yet, here we have a strange story. A golden apple, the one who offers power, the one who offers knowledge, the one who passed the choice to a mere mortal, the mortal who makes the choice, but yet, she, pivotal, the fairest of them all, the winner of the prize, is missing in all the reports we get after the fact. All the incidents with the apple of Eden. _

_ Would “Apple of Eden” be a misnomer? Shouldn’t it be “The Apple of Eris”, the cause of so much discord? My research shows Templars and Assassins of the past alike mention these two figures; Juno and Minerva, while the second one has assisted the Assassins, Juno has helped both sides from time to time, which at least makes the first one consistent, even if wrong, but the entity I saw talking to Miss Fairfax that night doesn’t fit either of their descriptions, could she be the lost piece? Aside from her look she filled the description of a Precursor entity. How about Miss Fairfax? I should look her up in the templar files. Perhaps she was one of us. _

_ I must investigate this further. _

The brightness of the lightning hit the old yellowed paper, and Lucy folded it and shoved it back inside her coat pocket.

Those were the first words she had even written as a templar. After her initiation, in 1859, she was given her first opportunity to access the templar knowledge from their vaults and Starrick’s library, larged inherited from Birch. Lucy spent days there, searching all the information she could, fascinated with being suddenly given what she craved, but that was far from satiating her, it just made her crave more.

She looked up records both from templars, meticulously kept by them, and assassins, carefully stolen from the other group, she had learned quite a bit about the assassins, their connections with piracy, their irresponsible actions that led to chaos in several points in the history of the world, their foolish creed that rejected both truth and law while also being able to look up the registry of templars in their history. She looked up London and latter the whole of England, but could find nothing about Miss Fairfax, not among the templars nor among the assassins they had knowledge of, with time, and the opportunity to pursue other artifacts.

When she joined the order she had never expected she would end up like this, 10 PM at the Big Ben, watching as Alexander Graham Bell, a competitor of Starrick, instructed Evie Frye, an assassin, how to help the two of them on something he still thought was obviously a bad idea.

“Miss Frye,” Lucy heard him say “I need you to carry this cable to the lightning rod--” followed by more instructions on how to connect them. Frye nodded her understanding and started to go up the tower. Thorne frowned, hoping the assassin would be careful, it was raining already, it would be a bit ridiculous to have someone like her dying from a slip followed by a fall. “Miss Thorne, if you don’t mind!” He called for her. “Hold the necklace high, please? Here!” He indicated the lateral of the tower and Lucy tried to do so. “Och, the cable is not long enough!” he complained. “Miss Thorne can you hold it a bit higher?”

“I can’t possibly become any taller in such a short notice, Mr. Bell.” She replied, a bit annoyed with the small drops of rain falling to her face slowly becoming bigger as the rain became stronger.

Alec frowned; “Och, I am sorry, but I really need--” he couldn’t finish because Lucy was suddenly lifted.

“Is that high enough?” Evie asked, holding the woman up by the waist and sitting her on her shoulder.

“That’s perfect Miss Frye!” Bell smiled. “Miss Thorne, if you could please attach these to the extremities?” he offered her cables and Lucy hooked them up, trying to ignore the blush that came to her face, as she was trying desperately to keep it neutral. 

“Ah, perfect!” Alec said pleased, completely unaware. “Miss Frye, I still need you to attach the other cable.” he offered it to her, and as he did so, a lightning struck another one of the towers making Mr Bell’s eyes go wide as he realized how much worst the storm had become; “Uh… Here, wear these.” He gave her the  thick gloves he was wearing.

“Thanks Alec.” Evie smiled at him and started to scale the roof again, being back in just a few minutes.

“Everything set up,” the inventor said tugging on the wire to see if it was secure “now let’s see if this wor--” It happened fast, a lightning came down, hitting the Big Ben with a flash at the same time it’s sound exploded on the air.

“ALEC!” Evie cried, seeing her friend being flung away by the electric charge, anguished voice being heard even over the howling winds and loud clapping of the heavy rain, but in the in the pandemonium of dark and light she reached him, touching his neck, looking for a pulse, but the noise around, the overload of sensations and chaotic sounds made it impossible to feel anything.

“FRYE!” She heard Lucy scream above the chaos; “LOOK!”

The beads of the necklace where were spinning out of control, electric charge running through them, the grooves and markings in them lighting up in blinding light as lightning seem to fall more and more around them, the thunderous sounds deafening them, the blinding lights, yet, both women continued to stare as the beads started to project something into the skies, line by line, an image made of light, being slowly covered by the clouds that seemed to descent from heaven and surround the Big Ben, covering the projection that formed.

Suddenly, silence. As if they were involved by a dark glass globe, where the fury of nature stayed outside.

Evie took the opportunity to verify if her friend was alive and this time she could feel his heart beating, albeit slowly. With a sigh of relief, she dragged Alec to the covered part of the Big Ben, taking out her leather overcoat and put it over his chest to keep him warm and stood up, looking at the apparition that was projected from the beads: 

It was a woman; wide thick lips and wide nose, high cheeks, almond shaped eyes with heavy eyelids, her face seemed to hold a sort of transcendent beauty, something that was heard of only in legend, her skin was dark blue on the projection and her hair was a blue tinted white, like the large tunic she wore, similar to the ones that had been described as Juno and Minerva wearing, but the woman looked nothing like either of them.

“It’s you...” Lucy whispered. Before her she saw the same ghost that was before Miss Fairfax that night, the same one that made her run away in fear.

“Destiny has been changed” she spoke in a deep and regal voice “Now I stand before two children who follow doctrines whose origins neither truly know” The apparition looked at Lucy and Evie, measuring them while both could only look at her, puzzled. “What a disgraceful time this is in which one forget how they came to be, but it doesn’t matter: I did not call you here for your old master. I didn’t do this for Prometheus, I did it for myself. So you two would assume your places as my heralds, proclaimers of my message, so Juno can be stopped.”

The redhead frowned; “Prometheus?”

“Heralds?” Evie asked; “What does all of that means?”

“It means I changed the future itself so you would take my message.” She looked down upon the two. “Juno and her manipulation must be stopped, so I altered what was once manipulated by her.” A image was projected by the beads, a vision of Crawford in his office putting his gun away before Lucy came in. Evie in the tower of London lunging towards Lucy, managing to escape her attempted to counter, bending the templar’s arm back and stabbing her, blood splattering on Evie and Lucy as the templar’s usually fierce expression converted into one of pure pain and suffering.

It was the first time Evie saw herself in action like that, her furious expression, her seemingly unstoppable rage, her mercilessness stabbing Lucy in the lung so she would die slowly as she was planning to do that night. It wasn’t pleasant image to see.

“That was what was supposed to happen then?” Lucy asked, quietly.

“No.” The image smile. “There is no ‘supposed to happen’, there is no destiny, no way to perfectly foresee things, I told Minerva and Juno that, they still tried, and the fact I am here and you’re alive, is a proof of that. There is no time to explain everything right now, but I know the Herald’s I choose, your thirst for knowledge is unquenchable, so I shall hold you both to it. I knew that if managed to get you both to this point, things would be changed enough for me to hope you shall reach the next one.”

Evie frowned, she wasn’t making any sense and it was starting to get on her nerves. 

“Damn it, just say what you want!” Lucy screamed in frustration, as if she read Evie’s mind.

The figure threw her head and laughed. “That’s the thirst I need.” She looked at both. “My heralds, if you want answers, first, find the shroud.”

“We need more than that!” Evie called. “Who are you?”

The apparition held her chin high and proud when she spoke; “I am Venus, the Fairest of them all, and that’s all you get for now!” The image started to faint, as the clouds started to dissipate; “Find the shroud and I’ll be there, waiting for you. Don’t fail me!” and with those last words, she disappeared taking the silence with her, letting the deafening noise come in. and leaving both women stunned in the rain.

_ “I guess I found my answer...” _

(tbc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENS!! The Fairest of them All is revealed, Evie is confused and Kid!Lucy is WAY too fun to write, OMG!!
> 
> I am a gigantic Thornye shipper and I do love romance, but writing character development for Lucy is always awesome, exploring her childhood, making guesses on what made her into what she is, and how she was... I just love this character so much, and exploring both Evie and (even more so) Henry in this chapter was also fun. I am sorry my dear Jacob fans, there was little in this chapter, but I needed to get this. I almost missed that lovable Jackass. XD
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading as much I enjoyed writing and PLEASE, send me some feedback! Good, bad, criticisms, all make me VERY HAPPY!! Love you all, and thank you for everything!


	6. Pulse and Impulse

**Chapter 6 - Pulse and Impulse**

 

_Evie took two shots of whisky at Mr. Bell’s house, after he insisted that it would help her feel warmer, since both her and Thorne vehemently refused to stay the night._

_As the two women made their way back to the train station the rain actually became worse, finishing the job of making both equally soaked and miserable._

_When they finally reached their wagon, both had breaths heavy and bodies soaked to the bone from the heavy rain, struggling to take off their outfits, heavily weighed by the water their clothes were unceremoniously stripped in a hurry and thrown about the wagon floor._

_They did so in front of each other with no shame, second thoughts, or even arousal whatsoever. It was too cold to even think, their brains still slowly recovering their normal highly active mode. So cold both women, now stripped down to their soaked undergarments, couldn’t feel their toes much less attraction._

_Then, slowly, the warmth started to settle in, just enough to get things moving inside their heads, in their soul the same bewildered feeling;_

_“My God...” Evie whispered, as it slowly sunk into her mind all that had happened. “I can’t believe this.”_

_Deep down she wondered if this was what Ezio Auditore felt when he talked to and Minerva. She was now walking in the footsteps of her hero, one of the greatest assassins that ever lived, but her story was different, since when Ezio entered the vault Rodrigo Borgia stayed behind, yet, Lucy was there with her._

_The images she saw in the clouds still played in her head, the way she attacked, bending Lucy’s arm violently back, putting her in a horribly vulnerable position and then stabbing her, cruel and merciless and while remembering she felt like the it would be always in her mind, image burned into her retina._

_Evie had her entire life drank the words and beliefs of the assassins, that the creed would stop them from doing great harm, that their bloodshed was necessary and that for things to change some people needed to die, but now she had saw what her failure had brought upon her and, despite the fact she couldn’t yet tell if having contact with Venus was good or bad, she could tell that it was a big change of great importance and all that only happened because she had failed her mission._

_The semi-naked woman shivering besides her right now was apparently a variant that had changed everything, just because Evie had failed and that might had been for the best._

_“Thorne...” She started and the redhead looked at her. “Have you ever questioned the Templars while you were still on their side?”_

_There was a moment of silence till she responded: “I don’t recall.” The fact she sounded so sincere only made the response more surprising and seeing Evie’s face she elaborated; “I didn’t got much involvement with anything outside seeking the pieces of Eden and finding ways to explore their power, with everything else, I trusted the order, mostly Starrick.” the last words ringed bitter. “The whole time I trusted the order was doing the right thing, casting aside the shadows, protecting this city of light.”_

_“But you’ve changed your mind?”_

_“About a few things... ” Thorne admitted, but didn’t elaborated, that she was mostly talking about not trusting Starrick anymore; her feelings and thoughts over the Templar principles and worldview where not yet fully changed and the Creed still ringed foolish in her ears. “Still, I do believe we… They do it for the good of humanity.”_

_Evie scoffed, but said nothing more, her eyes focused on the fire. Lucy decided to let that subject drop for now, since she felt there were more important inquiries at hand: “Are you questioning the Creed?” Her voice was neutral to her best, with a hint of curiosity perhaps, a modulation very deliberately chosen._

_“No.” It was the truth. It was not the creed she questioned, it was their methods, but she wasn’t up to discussing that with the ex-templar, so she decided to keep it to herself, it was what she usually did, but this time, maybe it was the cold, maybe it was what happened, but it just wasn’t as easy. Against her will she started to tremble and shake, she walked away from the fire opening a drawer and taking out a bottle of Cognac that she drunk straight for the bottle._

_The pleasant warmth spread through her body, as she took another swig tipping the bottle and stood there, under the bewildered look of the redhead, feeling herself getting more and more relaxed, she drunk more, each new gulp making her feel lighter, warmer, better._

_“Frye?” She heard Thorne call her name, but she was so occupied enjoying the how good she was suddenly feeling, she didn’t care to respond._

 

**Morning:**

It was 6 o’clock in the morning when the billiard room owner kicked Ned and Jacob out, after he made the two men pay for at least damage they had done, leaving the rest for later. Not that it was their fault, of course, those blighters had started it, the two man just finished it, Jacob more than Ned, but the smaller man had broken a few chairs and pool cues himself.

They walked back to Ned’s flat, as it was a habit now. It almost didn’t occur to Jacob to go back to his train anymore.

“That was fun!” Jacob said, falling back onto the sofa, putting both hands behind his head.

“Fun, destructive, same thing.” The smaller man said, in his voice something of an unusual mirth. All his time spent with Jacob was starting to turn out to be more entertaining than he expected, and at this point he couldn’t deny anymore that he might have had, at one point, started to develop feelings for Jacob, didn’t matter how much his instincts told him to be more cautious and closed. Still, his instincts were not silent, just quieted for now. Jacob was still evasive when it came to questions of why the sudden proximity, why the gang leader was seeking him, when previously, they were mostly business partners and it bothered Ned, certainly, but at the same time he felt that Jacob was too good to pass, too fun to ignore.

Still, there was yet another side to this, that still made it dangerous; Ned had realized that quite slowly he had grown to have some attraction for Jacob, which was something he avoided. Women, yes, he loved women, but men, he liked them, but feeling actual attraction, that was a bit harder and riskier for someone in his position as to say. Not all men wanted other men and even fewer would... And plus, of all men, why this one?

Looking at Jacob he saw that stupid grin on his face and his awful tattered clothes and the purple-ish tint around his eye, looking away with away guilty expression when his eyes reached the dried blood on the side of Jacob’s mouth, because of course they got into another fight, but this one was different. This one was initiated, not by Jacob but by an old ‘associate’ of Ned’s, that insisted he didn’t got his part, and for the New Yorker it was remarkable how the gang leader didn’t doubt him for a second, before getting into a fight with the man over his accusations towards the thief.

Ned really couldn’t remember the last time he had a friend that loyal to him, especially one that would take his word that easily. Yes, he was growing quite fond of Jacob Frye, much more than he expected, more than he wished as well.

“You know, Frye, you never actually told me--” Ned was then cut by a snore so loud it made him look at Jacob again, and there he was, sleeping peacefully, his mouth half opened like a child’s. He looked very handsome relaxed like that.

That thought surprised Wynert himself, that smiled and shook his head at it. He stood up and looked outside the window; It had rained heavily the night before and it was still cold and humid, just the kind of morning that made you want to sleep in or, in their case, just sleep, he couldn’t blame Frye at all for that.

Deciding to leave his thoughts and feelings for later, perhaps at a time when he could talk to Jacob, he retired to his room.

~~

Cornelia Harriet Smith was an especially energetic child of five, that due to the scoldings that usually accompanied her full name, much preferred be called Nellie, so Nellie she was called.

She had red hair and fair skin, a straight nose with an upturned tip and big almond shaped eyes, she was diminutive, her size and sweetness often got people thinking she was younger than she really was, something she would rectify quickly showing all the fingers of her left hand to demonstrate her age, and then rectify further with some demonstration of good intelligence for someone the young age they thought she had.

For that tiny, but smart girl, her patron was still terrifying and her visits uncomfortable in several ways.

Nellie was generally left to have full range when she had no chores or lessons to account to, so her patron’s visits were a bit of a stressful situation, since she had to put on her nicest dress.  Her nicest dress meant: staying quiet, no running or jumping, no playing outside, just waiting for the intimidating woman to show up, usually exactly at the time she said she would. That promptness just made the fact that Nellie had to wait quiet all day even more frustrating, but all the frustration was nothing compared to the intimidation.

Miss Thorne usually wore all black. Her shiny red hair tied in a tight bun, with a small hat perched on top of it that never seemed to fall or even get disarranged from it’s artful position. When she walked her back was always very straight and her very stroll commanded respect. Nellie had seen soldiers marching once, all moving as one according to the beating of a drum and they always made her think of her patron, but perhaps, not as scary.

“Cornelia, how are you doing?” She would ask, hands folded behind her back. She never called her Nellie, only adding to the general uneasiness the little girl felt.

“I am fine, ma’am.” Was the usual response, even when it wasn’t true, just as her governess had instructed.

After that, a series of questions would come; how where her lessons, chores, her playing her reading and the final question was always if she wished for something, a doll, a book, an instrument, on this part Nellie was allowed to ask for whatever she wanted, but she rarely ever had anything she wanted that haven’t been already provided to her. Satisfied with her responses, her patron would let her go to discuss one thing or another with her caretakers, sometimes she would have tea with Nellie afterwards and then leave.

Sometimes she would bring her friend, Miss Attaway, with her and things would be a bit different when that happened; Miss Attaway was also somewhat intimidating as well, not as tall, but something about her high cheeks and sharp eyes was a bit unsettling for Nellie at first, but the woman turned out to be very pleasant, when she saw that the young girl was neither fussy nor disobedient, unaware of the child’s capacity to act her own age when Miss Thorne wasn’t present.

Miss Attaway would jest with her and inquire of different things than Miss Thorne did and do a great job of showing interest in what the child had to say, from time to time sneaking a look to Miss Thorne that would quietly observe the two, from her chair.

It happened once a month on the 15th, a routine the child grew accustomed to, so for Nellie, it was a rather big surprise when Miss Thorne didn’t show up in the 15th, or the 16th, or the 17th, and even more surprising when a whole week went by without Miss Thorne contacting them at all.

Finally, by the 23th day of the month a man in a green suit showed up at the door; “Miss Thorne asked me to bring you this!” Nellie heard him say, as he gave the caretaker an envelope. With a tip of his hat, he left, but still no Miss Thorne or Miss Attaway, that would sometimes show up alone when Miss Thorne was away in business.

“She is a very occupied woman.” Mrs. Jameson, her caretaker, would say patiently. “And so is Miss Attaway, they’ll show up when they can dear, it’s alright.”, but the child knew that wasn’t it, before the coming of the man in the green suit, at some night she would hear the adults discussing in hushed whispers about how the money was near to ending and how they wouldn’t be able to pay for her and even quieter talk when they went into the subject of what was to do be done of her.

Nellie couldn’t hear a word, but she was terrified of it. I all of her short years she somehow knew that she hung by thread, even if she had no idea that was the expression, inside of her a feeling of oppression, fear of being abandoned, almost like she was born with it, as if from her first moments on this Earth, she knew that she could be left behind, unsafe and unprotected.

So when Miss Thorne appeared at their door, once again the girl was suddenly overwhelmed with the kind of joy that could only come from feeling safe again, and that made her run towards the woman, holding herself back just a foot from her, when she realized she was close to hugging her out of sheer relief. Fortunately, she stopped herself, before she could do it, she feared Miss Thorne wouldn’t like it, instead she stood still and said;

“Miss Thorne!” The little girl called, a bit louder than she wished too, her voice still over excited with joy,, surprising Lucy immensely, Nellie had never reacted like that from seeing her, but that was far from taking away her composure, and she stood, in her usual pose, both hands behind her back and asked a familiar question:

“Cornelia, how are you?”

~~

_Lucy could see the sincere distress on her eyes and how her body was acting. Miss Frye had quickly gone from quiet contentment to trembling, almost like was feeling intense fear, not to mention the way she had downed almost a whole bottle Cognac._

_This was all too much and perhaps it had taken the rain and chaos being silenced, plus alcohol, for Evie to finally process the full scope and implication of what they saw and was asked of them and on Lucy’s part, as much as the whole thing scared her deep down, she found herself much more concerned about Evie at the moment._

_“Frye, get a hold of yourself!” Her voice tried to sound stern and unfeeling, but it was no easy task seeing the assassin’s state. “Here,” Lucy reached out for the duvet over the bed and covered Evie’s shoulders with it “go lay down!” those words managed to be a bit more forceful._

_Evie sighed, realizing she was still wearing her soaked undergarments. Suddenly, feeling much less inhibited, she removed them without quite caring about the duvet sliding over her shoulders to the floor. Lucy looked away realizing she herself still had her own wet clothes to deal with, but nothing to cover her as the assassin had and all the inhibition that Evie has just lost it seemed. Lucy looked over her shoulder seeing the assassin there, bending over to get the duvet from the floor._

_She let out a huff, sending everything to hell she just stripped naked right there, since Frye wasn’t looking. Carefully, she put their clothes in front of the fireplace, hoping the emanating heat would help them dry faster before quickly moving to the other part of the wagon, picking up a robe from the wardrobe and putting it on, going back to sit next to the fire. Just then she noticed Evie looking at her;_

_“What is it, Frye?” The redhead asked, undoing her hair and letting it fall over her shoulders._

_Evie said nothing, but some unreasonable ideas took place in her mind, thoughts that maybe even her feelings for her, for Lucy, were another change of the future by the entity. Venus was the goddess of love after all, maybe she was manipulating Evie, maybe that was why she couldn’t take her eyes from the redhead, why she was always on her head, why everything about her was so attractive and it always had been when all she wanted was to kill her._

_Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was Venus or maybe looking at Lucy had taken away her capacity to think straight._

_“It’s too cold to sleep on the floor.” Evie’s voice was low and she spoke slowly, her words were a bit slurred, but speaking like that had help masquerade it._

_“I’ve taken your bed for long enough.” Lucy said, absent minded, trying to remember how Evie would prepare her own sleeping spot, throwing the covers on the floor, while trying to remember their order._

_Evie hesitated for a second, thoughtful before finally saying; “I still don’t think it’s a good idea to sleep on the floor.” Her eyes were half lidded as she spoke, and they traced the curves of Lucy’s body through her robe, by playing attention to how light shone on the curves of her covered body._

_At that Thorne crossed her arms and looked at her; “And what do you suggest Frye?”_

_The assassin’s response was to retrieve herself closer to the wagon wall, giving up and pointing at the now free spot in the bed, surprising Lucy for a few moments, before she took the spot offered, but she laid with her back turned to her. Evie smiled at that and slowly, she used her arms involved the redhead’s waist._

_“Frye...” Lucy whispered, as Evie pulled her closer, burying her face in the red locks of hair._

 

**Afternoon:**

The light hit her eyes, making her cringe. Her head was heavy, her mouth dry, everything hurt.

It was a hangover, she had had worse before, still she was too tired to get out of bed so soon… At least until suddenly memories of the night before forced her awake, looking around the room to make sure she remembered right.

Her eyes frantically searched and investigated her surroundings before she came to a conclusion; _It was all a dream._ Evie sighed in relief at the realization, since it was literally the first thing that came to her mind when she looked around that, well, she looked at the clock in her room; Afternoon? It was past midday and she couldn’t believe that the events of the previous night had hit her so hard.

She had just woken up to find herself alone in bed and despite the strong smell of carnations, finding the disarranged parts of her improvised cod on the floor besides the bed, a clear indicator that Thorne had slept there and not in the bed with her as Evie feared.

Didn’t matter how real the warmth of the other woman’s body felt, or how clearly the assassin remembered straddling her and kissing her mouth and neck, it was all a dream, her brain playing games with her.

Forcing the thoughts of “why she would even dream of something like that” from her head, she looked around her wagon; Her clothes, now dried, still hung in front of the fireplace, that part wasn’t a dream apparently. The redhead’s clothes were missing however and she herself wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Soon after the relief, however, came Evie’s anger at Thorne not even taking the time to put her bed away after waking up, and the deep frown that came upon her brow made her head hurt. Slowly, she sat up feeling the cold air on her back and chest, she pulled the duvet up, covering herself and even that movement caused her pain.

It was going to be a wonderful day.

After much mental work, she finally got out of her bed, kicking the improvised bedding aside, since she was pretty sure that if she bent down to fold it and put in place, her head would explode and all the contents of her stomach would be emptied all over it, she went to dress herself, trying to ignore how the shaking of the train made her feel queasy.

When dressed she took a deep breath, decided to hide what she was really feeling, and went to take a step forwards, when she heard the loud sound of someone gently knocking on her door.

At least sounded loud for her.

“Evie?” She recognized the voice and hearing it made her feel better.

“Mr. Green.” She smiled and opened the door. Henry was standing with the help of a crutch. “How--”

He smiled at her; “Some Rooks helped me, I am fine,” his brows frowned in concern “you look at bit sick, however.”

“Hangover.” Evie admitted, putting her hand on her forehead.

“I heard those a terrible.” Henry held her by the hand and brought her into Jacob’s wagon, sitting her on the sofa, making sure she was comfortable.

She frowned; “You never had one?”

“I don’t drink much.” He shrugged. “Would you like something? Water? Tea?”

“Green tea with a lot of sugar seems nice, but you don’t have to do it;” she smiled at him, thankful for his presence there. Henry always seemed to make things better or at least try to “I’ll do it, you had enough trouble because of me.“ She moved to stand up, but Henry gently put his hand on her shoulder, pushing her back.

“No no, that’s fine.” He smiled, showing he could move just fine with the crutch. “See? I can do this.”

“Thank you Henry...” Her hoarse voice was filled with true gratitude that seeped even through the haze of the hangover.

“Whatever you need Evie.” He smiled, and left to prepare everything, Evie laid her head back into the cushion of the sofa, her mind quieting. She wondered where Jacob or Thorne where.

~~

Lucy had dreamed of Pearl that night. Her friend was as charming as always, even as she sat in a burning room, fearlessly amidst the flames, telling Lucy about how her mother, Mrs Attaway and Pearl’s elder siblings perished in a fire in their country house, how fire always seemed to be an important part of her friends life. In her blood, in her eyes, in her voice.

When Starrick spoke of Pearl, he spoke of luster, but that wasn’t the word, Pearl didn’t reflect light like a dead rock, she emanated it, like fire, in the dream she spoke of it, about how the flames couldn’t hurt her so she escaped them as a child, about how that was the reason she thought it would be fine to play with fire again, but this time, she ended up being burned.

Her voice sounded as the usual, deep and smooth, even as she spoke of treason and revenge and it got to Lucy, hearing her like that, the voice of the dead woman speaking loudly what was still inside her own skull.

The events of the night before had helped justify herself in a few fronts, in the sense that apparently, things had been manipulated and her treason and betrayal, both, were supposed to happen.

That didn’t erase or eased the fact she shared space with the man that killed her, that she called him an ally and that she wanted his sister in her arms, thought that impediment, after what she was told the night before, might not be that big anymore, in fact, at the moment, hurting Evie felt like a plus.

The fact that Nellie had asked about the Tycoon didn’t help either.

Pearl was not a big fan of children, but Nellie she had liked, even indulging in the girl’s queries and endless talk of the things she liked, she had feigned interested very well in whatever drivel a four year old would consider important and to Lucy’s surprize even remembered some of it in other visits. In turn the little girl had grown to like her quite a lot as well;

“Miss Attaway--” Lucy’s full intention was to speak the truth, it really was, but her mouth couldn’t not form the words; ‘Passed’, ‘is no longer among us’, ‘is gone’, or even ‘‘Died.’ What a horrible way to say that. None of those things said anything about her friend, none of them mentioned her vivacity, intelligence or her charm, all of them said much more about an unavoidable end that makes people all too similar to Lucy’s taste.

“Miss Attaway has other business to attend.” She lied. “She might not show up for sometime.”

Cornelia looked sad, but said nothing more, quickly resigning herself to the fact; the child was quick to resignation. Their conversation after was as cold and stiff as usual, but there was a certain edge in it. Like there was something that Nellie wanted to tell her, but couldn’t and as such, nothing was said.

When Lucy said goodbye, she also mentioned about not being able to come back for an undetermined amount of time and once again, Nellie looked like she wished to say something, clutching her little fists to her side, they almost trembled, making the older woman nervous, but still, the girl said nothing, and she decided that it shouldn’t had been that important either, maybe a bit angry at the child for not speaking up for herself.

Walking back home, Lucy sighed.

‘That child was nothing like--’ she thought, but before she could add any more, she was pulled from her train of thought by a loud voice, when turning a corner, she saw Mr. Topping entering a saloon, a place she knew, but haven’t been too since her early 20s. Lucy smiled to herself, knowing what would relieve her tension now.

Besides, it was time for her to have a talk with Mr. Topping.

~~

Jacob had dreamed of Pearl that morning, she had invited him into her carriage and she sat on his lap, as they kissed tenderly, while her neck wound opened and drowned them both in her blood, but they didn’t stop kissing, until she was gone, disappearing in a sea of red.

He kicked the door of the carriage open and he realized it was sinking in the Thames, he screamed, but just swallowed water, as he desperately tried to reach the surface, but he never seemed to get closer to the surface, until he felt himself dragged back to reality.

“Frye, wake up!” Ned shook him back to reality. “Wake up!”

The assassin opened his eyes, taking time to realize where he was and it was certainly not the Thames; “Ned?” He lifted his head and looked around, confused; “This is your--? Did I slept--?”

“Yes, yes, you’re in my flat, sleeping in couch and suddenly you start screaming like a crazy man!”

“I…” He sat up, both feet on the ground, his body covered in cold sweat; “I was having a nightmare.”

“I did imagined it was something like that.” Ned responded, getting the covers Jacob was using and putting them aside so he could sit. “What was that about?”

Jacob’s head shot up; “Did I said anything?”

“Aside from the screams? No.”

“Good.” He sighed in relief, but noticed that Ned was still staring at him. “It was just… Nothing. Some mistakes I’ve made come back to me sometimes.” Jacob said, before he could stop himself.

“You must have many nightmares then.” The thief quipped.

“You’re starting to sound like Evie.” The gang leader raised an eyebrow and Ned was about to make another quip, but he in Jacob’s eyes that it bothered him.

“I was kidding, I am sorry.”

“That’s alright.” Jacob lowered his head, looking at his naked feet. “You’re right anyway.” He remembered Ned’s distrust towards Pearl and his distaste seeing him with Roth. Had he listened to the thief more, his life would been far better. “You’re usually right, about most things.” He looked at Ned and forced a grin. “I should listen to you more.”

The thief moved his arm around the other man to pat him in the back. “You’re right, I am correct about most things.”

Jacob looked at him. When Ned smiled, there was a glint in his eyes, the way his nose moved, his arched eyebrow, his lowered eyelids, veiling his eyes, the corners of his mouth moving up, his features became so handsome when he smiled like that and the assassin found himself taken with a deep desire and his poor impulse control spoke louder, as he held Ned’s chin and pulled his mouth to his and kissing it.

It was just a touch of lips, nothing more, but electricity came over him, strong reverberating through his body, he imagined that must had been what was like to be hit a voltaic bomb.

However, soon enough the electric feeling was substituted by the bluntness and pain of a surprisingly powerful punch against his cheekbone.

~~

When she was young, she would sneak out of her house and with the help of Maddie, an Irish maid her parents had that was slightly older than her, she would be taken to to a dingy back alley of a brothel and down stairs to a fighting ring in their basement. It was a fight club for women only and, at fourteen, Lucy was amongst the youngest there.

There was only one rule and that was, no punching the face or breasts, everything else was allowed, fought on their petticoats, often bare breasted and for several wages, money was one, but so were cheap jewels, booze or tobacco, and the reasons to fight where just as diverse as well, sometimes men, sometimes arguments, sometimes frustration with the world, or their husbands or their clients.

Lucy’s wager was almost always money or something actually expensive, like a gold watch, something that would make sure to get all the women there ready to get her, and more then once she had the rules broken to get to her, but that was exactly what she wanted, greed was a great motivator and she needed it, she needed a challenge, she fought to get rid of her anger, so that was why she was met with Mr Topping’s ring that afternoon.

The bell rung and they charged to her. Lucy punched a man in the stomach, kicking his head as he doubled over and elbowing one that tried to attack her from behind, using his momentum to throw him over her shoulder on top of another man charging directly at her and kicking in the knee of a fourth one just about to flank her.

_Evie kissed her neck, through her hair, inhaling her scent. “Curse the way you smell...” The assassin whispered and let out a low laugh. “I love it so much.” she rubbed her nose on Lucy’s nape, her lips soon following._

_“Frye, I am warning you.” It was hard, but she managed to keep her voice stern and serious as she spoke. “You’re drunk, don’t be ridiculous.” She looked over her shoulder at Evie, but the young woman just gave her a teasing look and a mischievous smile, before holding her shoulder and pulling her back laying flat down on to the mattress. She kissed her cheek, gently and playfully before moving herself to straddle the redhead, sitting up._

_The breath was caught in Lucy’s throat as the duvet fell off Evie’s back, exposing her upper body for the ex-templar and her brown eyes couldn’t help but roam; strong shoulders covered in freckles and strong arms, soft belly, large pale breasts, hard pink nipples, a few scars, very few, the lights and shadows of the wagon played with the form of her body, warm light and cold shadow._

Lucy’s reason that afternoon where the things that happened the night before. Visiting Nellie had helped, seeing that the child was alright always made her feel better somewhat, but since she left, it was all creeping on her, slowly, the memories, the night before. Not the best thing to allow in a fighting ring.

That memory, for instance, distracted her enough to let her be caught off guard by a punch to the ribs, which was soon met with strong retribution, an elbow attack that broke his arm and a kick that broke his leg before throwing him through the ropes and out of the ring.

She smiled, clenching her fits as four more men came to the ring.

The brain was a treacherous thing and now that the memories were coming, flashes, like lightnings in the night turning it to blinding light, it was better to just deal and those men would be her her lightning rods.

_Yet, Lucy did not touched her, and her face was so stone serious that only her roaming eyes gave her away, but that was more than enough for the master assassin;_

_“Enjoying the view, I see.” Frye said with a mischievous smile, as she lowered her body to kiss her neck._

_It was almost too much, never in her life Thorne had wanted a woman like this, her enemy, someone who had come so close to killing her, to ending her, someone so strong and smart and beautiful and, most importantly, intelligent and skilled, but in the back of her mind there was something that knew; “You’re drunk...” She pointed out, but her arms were so close to hold her, her body was so close to give in._

_“You want me.” Was the assassin’s response, as her mouth opened and her tongue came out, licking Lucy’s neck, followed by a deep suck that elicited a moan from Thorne’s throat that was impossible to hold back._

_Even with her resistance running thin, and as she felt Evie’s lips on hers, she thought that maybe it would be gone soon enough, at least until their tongues met and she felt that taste;_

_Alcohol, heavy in mouth and her breath, she kiss was still warm and inviting, their tongues touching was still a wonderful feeling, but the taste, the smell, stronger than she expected and in the back of her mind she asked herself why Evie couldn’t be a disgusting mess as most people when they got drunk, instead of even more alluring? Still, she managed to gently push her away: “I want you sober.” She said breathlessly, the only thing that could her push the woman away._

A punch broke the soft skin between her eyelid and eyebrow, blood fell over her left eye, making her close it, that would take a toll on her depth perception, but she hardly cared, she could still see well enough.

They were getting desperate, going for the face, she didn’t mind it at all, they didn’t matter. She was furious anyway and it wasn’t because of them, it was the memories in her head, the night before resonating in her head. Fury giving her amazing strength by making her forget the bruises, the blood in her eyes, the tiredness in her muscles and giving her the will to beat them.

That anger had a very distinct source, an expression in her pretty face, five words;

_Evie chuckled, a cruel chuckle in retrospect; “You can’t have me sober.” And lowered her body to kiss her again._

Those words cut more than her blade ever could. That very moment Lucy understood what she was for Evie, she fully saw it, and the realization hurt so much she could no longer deny that what she felt for the assassin wasn’t just attraction.

Circumstances could make love itself be such a bitter realization.

_A lightning stroke, light flood the room and that was immediately followed by a yelp of surprised as she was pushed back by both of Lucy’s hands holding her arms firmly, cutting all of their contact, pushing the assassin off of her and getting out of the bed, tying her robe more tightly around her waist;_

_“You’re drunk.” She said once more, as the loud, delayed sound of thunder hit the wagon. The assassin’s words were like cold water and Lucy was thankful for it, she was about to do something despicable after all. “Go to sleep!” It was almost an order, fortunately, Evie was either too drunk or puzzled to context and just observed as Thorne laid on the floor and covered herself, trying to fall asleep, before passing out._

“OUR NEW CHAMPION!!” Robert Topping announced, raising Lucy’s clenched fist high-up in the air as she finally felt good again.

 

**Evening:**

Far away, Miss Frye was still unaware of the turmoil she caused, mostly because she didn’t remember causing it. However, she did remembered important things from the night before and her face light up as she told them to Ghost of London.

“Venus?” Henry was breathless; “Evie, that’s amazing!”

Mostly recovered from the hangover, the young master assassin was now explaining to Henry all the events of the night before, in the Big Ben. Henry knew, of course, of the encounters that had happened before, Minerva and Ezio Auditore, Juno and Ratonhnhaké:ton, Aveline and the entities whose names he didn’t recalled, and now this.

“I know!” She said. “I never expected something like this.”

“She said, she altered the future for you?” He looked her into the eyes.

Evie frowned; “Something to that effect.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know!” Evie said impatiently. She stood up and started pacing around the wagon, thoughtful; “Where there any indications before that the first civilization could do that?”

“Well, if the legends about the apple, the sword and the staff are true, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Henry walked to sit besides her. “So, you killing Miss Thorne fit into Juno’s plans?”

“Yes.” Evie let herself fall to the cushion besides him.

“Makes you question things, doesn’t it?” Henry said suddenly. “If our methods are truly the best, if all of this killing is really the solution.”

Into Evie’s mind, once again, the flash of the brutal way she took Thorne down, her expression of fury, the redhead’s expression of pain, the way the blood splattered on the side of her face and then, the things actually did happened, the looks they exchanged, Thorne’s smell, that kiss against her wall, the small flashes from the night before that kept coming to her and with them, some fear of what she was actually feeling after all; “Sometimes, people have to die for things to change.”

“Indeed.” He conceded. “And sometimes, people dying just eliminates better possibilities.”

In Evie’s mind, Lucy saying her name breathlessly echoed. “You can’t be sure they are better.” She bended forwards, putting her elbows on her knees, rubbing her face with both hands.

She felt warmth on her back, as Henry touched it. “I guess we just don’t know.” He said, as his hand rubbed large, comforting, circles on her back; “At least, I can say I am sure you’re doing exactly what you believe is right and...” He hesitated; “I think you’re one of the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I trust you, Evie.”

Evie straightened herself up, and looked him in the eyes. His smile was as warm as his hands, she couldn’t help, but respond in kind to it, as her hands moved to his face and caressed it with the back of her fingers.

Henry blushed and froze, but Evie leaned in, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Henry.” She smiled, and he felt himself melt, as his eyes drifted to her lips, something that didn’t escape her perception, so she moved his face, gently making him incline his head so she could fit when she moved forward and kissed his lips, lightly, a gentle kiss.

Henry moved his hand to her waist, hesitantly, pulling her a bit closer as they started to deepen the kiss, the sensation was deep on his part, for Evie however, it was hard to tell, and there were not conclusions to be had for her when the kiss ended briefly, since they were soon interrupted.

“What the devil!” A brash voice called, and Henry was yanked up.

“Jacob!” Evie called standing up, as her brother held the Indian assassin by the hood, as if he was a kitten being held by the back of the neck.

“Sister dearest, so this is what you do, as I am out killing Templars?” He screamed; “At least have the decency not to do it in the place where I sleep!”

Evie couldn’t believe how angry Jacob sounded, not she could see a reason why said anger would be warranted; “Jacob, stop this!”

“Talk about not letting your personal feelings interfere with the mission, you damn hypocrite!” He screamed again!

“Let him go!” She ordered; It was too much of a change in the mood for her and she really had no idea what was going on, but all she wanted was for Henry to be let go, preferably without more injury to his leg.

That was not to be.

“As you wish!” He punctuated that by throwing Henry off to the side.

For his credit, Jacob wasn’t aware of Henry’s leg injury and very much surprised with the scream of pain from him as he hurt himself when instinctively he tried to break his fall by standing on his hurt leg.

“Damn it, Jacob!” Evie screamed pushing her brother aside. “Henry?”

“I am fine!” Henry said, between hisses of pain he doing his best to suppress. “It’s alright Evie, no need to fight over me.” _Why were things like that?_ He thought. _Why does everything keeps going for bad to worse?_ There was nothing Henry desired more than for things to be at peace again.

“No, you’re not fine!” Evie stated, holding him up and giving him her extended sword cane. The were getting to The Strand, the train stopping at the station, as Evie launched Jacob a dirty look and walked out, with Henry at her shoulder, still insisting he was fine.

In her anger she didn’t notice the her brother’s bruised and swollen face or his guilty expression.

He fell back onto his sofa, running his fingers through his hair.

_“I will not be your new crutch, Frye!” Ned screamed. “I am not Attaway and I am not Roth! What the hell were you thinking, doing that? You don’t do something like that to anyone! Get out of my house, now!”_

He looked up at Pearl’s picture with the X over her chest. Her cleaver eyes looked back at him and he felt a lump on his throat as his look fell back to his feet, his boots suddenly very interesting, and he got really close to questioning himself there, to ask if maybe he was envious because of what he had to do to her, angry because that one time he didn’t let his feelings get in the way.

He got really close, but decided against it.

Pearl was dead, the end, if he loved her or not made no difference anymore, but he missed her and he couldn’t deny that, Ned was gone, what he had done was horribly wrong, his impulses taking the best of him, probably wouldn’t talk to him again, and so was Evie now, maybe this once she wouldn’t forgive him, he doubted Henry would either, maybe as soon as this was over the two of them would depart together and he would truly be alone. Maybe this was for the better.

He punched the sofa, looking up, he saw the wall of assassinations again, all the people he killed up until then, deliberately avoiding Pearl’s picture this time. He needed something to do, and looking at this newest target, still lacking a face and a name, he remembered he had an appointment with Mrs Disraeli.

Yeah, maybe that could help.

If anything, would free himself and his sister from each other sooner.

~~

“That was amazing, Milady!” Robert said, offering her her winnings for the night, she took it, looking at the money before pocketing it unceremoniously. He also lifted his hat, to reveal her smaller one under it, after she gave it to him for safekeeping, she took it and perched it onto her head; “I never imagined someone would be able to beat Mr. and Miss Frye’s record, my most sincere congratulations!”

“I did?” She grinned. “What honour.” There was a twinge of sarcasm to her tone, but it was gone when she added; “Pray tell, Mr. Topping, is this the only revenue you take part in?”

“I am sure I do not understand, milady.” He responded, brushing his top hat with the sleeve of his coat.

“It’s only fights you organize, Mr. Topping?” Lucy put both hands behind her back and looked Robert up and down, making the young man feel suddenly nervous.

“Oh, no, I also organize races, card games.” He pointed out, counting his own earnings for the evening, trying to look relaxed, but with the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy approach, like a lioness sneaking on a prey.

“How long have you known Miss Frye, Mr Topping?” Lucy asked, her voice sounding almost too neutral.

“Ever since she got to London, I would say.” Robert said, one bead of sweat going down the side of his.

“So you didn’t come across each other on the laboratory at all?” She asked, catching the bookie by surprised.

Robbie turned to her fully now; “M-Miss Thorne,” he stuttered nervously “I have no idea what--”

“Don’t you dare underestimate me, Mr Topping!” Lucy’s voice cut anything he could have said short. “It didn’t took me too long to piece things together, the lab explosion, Miss Frye, and you, I knew I saw your ridiculous clothes before. The fact you were obviously messing around my library on the train was the final clue I needed, now you better tell me what you were doing then!” She pulled out her dagger, pointing at his throat. “Did the assassins had sent you? Were you working with miss Frye?”

Robert laughed, and Lucy looked at him with an expression that genuinely made her look like she never felt amusement her whole life; “Oh, Miss Thorne. You really think that Assassins and Templars are the only ones to know?” He said with a smile.

“What are you talking about, Topping?” Lucy arched an eyebrow, still trying to hide her confusion and curiosity under an angry expression.

“I can’t explain Miss Thorne, but I can tell you who can.”

“Tell me then!” She asked between grinded teeth.

He shook his head side to side. “No--” she pressed her dagger to his throat “-t yet!” He lifted one finger into the air. “Don’t be foolish Miss Thorne, trust me, we are the only ones who can help you and Miss Frye. Killing me, won’t help, in fact.” Slowly, she let go of him. “Good!” He smiled, adjusting his coat. “Now be patient, Mother will contact you when the right time comes. Thought, she actually told me to tell her if something like this happened, so that might be earlier than expected.”

“Is that how you call the grand master of your order?”

“Me?” He stopped to think for a second, rubbing his chin. “Yes, that IS what I call her.” He snapped his fingers and tipped his hat. “I’ll talk to mother. Thank you for everything; Miss Thorne.”

Lucy said nothing to that, just frowned and turned her back to leave, when she was a good 10 paces from him, she heard him say;

“Miss Fairfax would had been proud!”

Lucy immediately froze at that, suddenly turned to him, but when she did, Mr. Topping was already gone.

~~

“You seem to have helped that fella quite a bit.” He told Mrs Disraeli with a smile, as the big blighter walked away.

Jacob couldn’t help, but feel better. The prime minister’s wife was great company and the assassin was growing rather fond of her to be quite honest, and he was glad he had her around after such an awful day.

It was an adventurous evening, distracting reporters, driving Mrs Disraeli in a daring escape from their gossip, taking her into one of the most dangerous parts of town and then, rescuing her dog and, perhaps the most surprising part, the fact that Jacob was starting to get rather fond of the corgi as well;

Desmond, that was now free from his purse, laid belly up on the little bed made by Jacob’s crossed legs, ankle over knee, as the gang leader pet his belly gently and the corgi snoozed away, drumstick like legs kicking from time to time, which would make the gang leader casually scratch his neck, since that always seem to calm him down.

“One does not goes through two marriages and a lifetime living without learning a thing or two dear.” She smiled at him. “I wonder if there is anything I could do to help you.” Mrs Disraeli took a swig of her beer.

“Me?” Jacob asked surprised. “I- I am fine.”

Well, that was a lie and the look on Mrs Disraeli’s face made it clear she didn’t believed him for a second.

“You should not worry yourself with me.” Jacob said, in his voice there was some sort of softness that surprised even him. “Besides, I doubt it would be interesting for you to hear, Ma’am.”

“Oh, dear, with a life like yours, everything that happens in it is more interesting than everything that ever happened in mine, believe me.” She smiled that cheeky smile that mothers give their children when they try to make them talk about new relationships or who they like. Taking another swig of her beer; “You can talk to me dear, is all I mean. Don’t feel pressured, I do enjoy your company greatly and that’s enough for me if it is so for you.”

Her look was so motherly as she spoke, a look he haven’t seen since his grandma was alive, when she would hold his hand and listen, without scolding or judging him, listening in a way where he felt safe speaking.

He also didn’t feel like speaking, he didn’t know how to say it or explain it. Ned, Pearl, Evie, the assassins, all the things that happened, it was so much, so heavy, he felt he could only ruin the night by speaking it, but by God, he was thankful for her asking, so he smiled at her, it was a sincere and thankful smile, and then raised his tankard. “To your health ma’am.” And took a swig.

 

**Night:**

Hours latter Jacob walked back to Victoria station, knowing the train would be passing by in a few minutes. Agnes was very particular about the train schedule, which was something Evie especially appreciated as it was the means to escape from trouble sometimes.

Jacob however, only had vague memories of the times when it stopped in certain stations, but he was pretty certain that the train was approaching Victoria station soon enough, he waited in the platform for about ten minutes waiting for him to home to arrive, longing so much for the place he called home, he didn’t notice the train that stopped in the platform behind him..

“We found you, you damn bastard.”

He crooked an eyebrow and managed to jump out of the way just in time to avoid a knife attack. Looking around he saw what must had been two dozen blighters armed with knifes and guns.

“You killed Mr. Roth you son of a bitch!” Said one of them, due to size and ugliness Jacob assumed he was the leader.

Usually, Jacob would get opportunities like that with open arms, but this time, he was tired and the good mood that taking Mrs Disraeli for a stroll had brought him was starting to wear, so he just frowned at the blighters.

“Look, I am not in the mood for this today.” He said, sarcastically. “So if you would kindly leave, I won’t have to break every bone in your body.” He said between grinded teeth.

Immediately after it occurred to him that he probably made things worse, with the fist moving rapidly towards his face being his best clue, he dodged it easily, but was still cross over having to fight the one day he really didn’t feel like it.

Well, shame.

Jacob was distracted by his brawl and therefore didn’t saw no one other than Miss Thorne coming up a flight of stairs nearby, attentively looking into her pocket watch. Contrary to Jacob, she knew the train would arrive in exactly fifteen minutes and fifteen seconds, if Agnes was as anal about the schedule as she usual was, and so, unlike Jacob, she noticed his and the Blighters’ presences on the other side of the platform.

The running and screaming from the people might have tipped her off slightly.

She observed the brawl and looked at her watch once more, fifteen minutes and four seconds. Thorne sighed, unfortunately, for now, she needed Jacob and having a bunch of blighters seeing them get into the train wouldn’t be good for their secrecy, without much of a choice, she unsheathed her dagger, Jacob finally noticing her presence when the redhead’s black blade traversing the shoulder of a blighter back to front.

~~

With Roth gone the Blighters were now lacking a leader and losing power fast. They still had Westminster, but Lilla Graves was dead, which meant that soon enough they would lose their last few gang holds and business, that same night, news that Jacob Frye had just waltzed into the Devil’s Acres for a stroll was the final straw on what was once the pride of the gang,

Demoralized and angry, the men and women were ripe for the picking and Crawford Starrick was not a man up to letting an opportunity like that go, especially with so much at stake.

“Tea?” He offered the tall blond man, as soon as he came in and was dismissed with a wave a slightly disgusted expression. Crawford sighed, at least Miss Thorne shared his appreciation for it. Sometimes he couldn’t help but think he would miss her friendship.

“Grand Master.” Leon inclined his head in respect and Starrick responded in equal manner and gestured for him to sit down; “I came as you ordered.”

“You did made a point of saying you felt completely recovered.”

“I do sir!” Leon said emphatically. “I am ready to find Miss Thorne.”

“And how do you suppose you’ll complete that task?” Starrick asked, with his half lidded eyes.

“Sir?” The Russian asked, confused.

“How do you expect going anywhere in this town with those scoundrels, those rooks running everywhere, keeping guard, keeping us from parts of the town?” He inclined himself forwards in his chair. “Even with your special training, we don’t know where they hide, where to find them and looking itself is dangerous when their little Syndicate is everywhere now.”

The blond man stopped and thought about it, rubbing his chin. “That is a good point. What do you suggest, sir?”

“Recovering the power that once belonged to Roth.” Starrick finished his tea, pouring himself more. “Rebuilding the gangs, stronger now, with better leadership.” The Grand master sat back, giving a pause to his words. “I believe you would be the man for it.”

“That was not what I came here for, Mr Starrick.” Leon said. “Your gangs don’t interest me, my job is to eliminate the traitor, that’s my only duty.”

“Your duty is to the order,” Starrick said, crossing his legs. His expression was calm, but his voice was curt, with an edge to it, “and having the control of the gang will be the best help, possible.” The Grand Master took a sip of his tea as a pause. “Miss Thorne now counts with the assassin’s protection, which means that she also counts on the protection of their gang.”

“The Rooks.”

Crawford nodded; “Exactly If the order lost its grip over London, Miss Thorne would not only be free to reveal secrets of the order, but also the lesser of our problems. Who rules London--”

“Rules the world” Leon finished, with a half smile. “I heard that before, I believe.”

Crawford sneered slightly at that response, but said nothing to “If you seize our power back, we might have a chance to save the city and kill the traitor and if you do--” Starrick took another deliberate pause, calmly putting his tea cup on its saucer; “I’ll endorse your request to become the new Black Cross.”

Leon’s face lit up at that and without hesitation, he said; “Very well Grand Master, I shall do as you wish.”

~~

The sound of breaking bones was loud, and blood splattered out as Jacob’s brass knuckle broke the arm of yet another blighter, before the gang leader kicked the man in the back, sending him over one of the station benches, behind him, Lucy’s dagger dug deep into a tight, and when she pulled the blade out it hit the victim in the face with it’s pommel, violently breaking his nose.

The last two blighters ran away, as fast as their injuries would allow them, but most of the attackers were thrown about the floor around them, and just in time too, as the train approached, both calmly hopped in;

“I am surprised, Thornie.” Jacob said, as she made the move to go to Evie’s wagon. His words made her stop and look at him with certain curiosity; “I wasn’t expecting you to know how to fight, honestly.”

“Is there a point to that observation, Frye?” She asked, doing her best to sound neutral, holding her sharp tongue.

He still got it though. It made him flinch, it usually wouldn’t, but that wasn’t being a good day. Truth being told, he had no idea why the hell he trying to start a conversation with Thorne of all people, but it was strange to be around her so much and not even once having had a conversation with her.

Yes, he was absolutely sure she hated his guts, but frankly, after today, he doubted there was anyone that didn’t to an extent.

“Uh, no…” He finally responded; “Just surprised.” Jacob shrugged, doing his best to seem aloof. “Most Templars I’ve saw couldn’t fight at all.”

“I am surprised by your restrain.” Lucy said, turning to him. “Most assassin’s I’ve met were more likely to murder without a second thought.” She smiled. “Most of our enemies were alive when we left.”

“And Templars don’t kill?” He said defensively.

“I was paying you a compliment, Mr. Frye.” She grinned at him and he laughed despite himself.

Or perhaps because of himself.

“I don’t think, Evie is home, yet.” Jacob almost screamed for her as she walked into the wagon, he really didn’t wanted to be alone, and any company was company.

“Oh?” Lucy raised an eyebrow.

“Yup, she and Greenie left together this afternoon.” Jacob said, sitting on his sofa.

“Mr. Green is out of the hospital then?” Thorne enquired. “How is his leg?”

Jacob looked away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think it will take sometime to heal.”

“So why did he leave with Miss Frye?” She looked confused; “Wouldn’t it be better to just stay in the train?”

“I think he intended to...” Jacob tried to look careless as he said the next few words; “I might had overreacted when I came in a saw him kissing Evie.” he shrugged, but even his theatrics couldn’t hide he felt guilty, but for Lucy his words made everything a bit hazy and hard to understand.

Jacob caught Evie and Mr. Green kissing, she frowned, disgusted, her shoulders fell and her jaw was set, as she took a deep breath. It was hard to try and keep her face neutral, to try and keep calm, but that made her feel so angry, her pulse quickened. She wanted to punch something, but that would only make her feelings clear. It made her so upset she wanted to cry, but that was just pathetic.

It was irrational, and she knew it, but knowing only made it worse.

Her face was red and furious, but she forced herself to another deep breath and another, till she finally whispered; “I need a drink...” Rubbing her forehead with her hand.

Jacob looked up, finally, his own lost in all the stupid things he did that day, he looked at the only person who wasn’t any more furious at him than usual; “Come on Ginger,” He told her, standing up; “let’s get a drink.”

~~

Evie didn’t wanted to go home.

She didn’t wanted to see Jacob or Thorne, she didn’t wanted to think about her newly imposed duties and revelations and the shroud. She didn’t wanted to think about Venus or anything relating to anything that happened the night before and was frankly thankful she couldn’t remember a thing of what happened between her and Thorne.

“I am afraid I won’t be able to reach my apartment.” Henry explained her, as they approached his shop. “I live in the second floor, but I use a ladder to get there.” She smiled back and showed her rope launcher. “Of course!” He said. “Are you sure it can take us both?”

“Yes.” She responded simply, not wanting to bring up the times she did it with Lucy Thorne in her arm. “Still, I would like to take a look at your library, see if we find anything there about, Venus.”

Henry looked confused; “How about Miss Thorne’s--?”

“I am sure she is probably looking those over herself now.” Evie cut in. “We decided it would be better to split the research, cover more ground.” She lied. Well, it was a good idea, she was sure the other woman would agree.

“It’s pretty late however.” Henry pointed out. “I thought you be waiting for the train after leaving me home.”

“No, I--” Evie became silent. She didn’t wanted to say it outright, she didn’t liked the perspective questions that saying that could spark. “I rather get into this research now.”

They reached his shop and Evie easily took him to the second floor using her rope launcher, getting in through the window, using Henry’s key. Of course an assassin would have a key to the second floor window as the key of his house.

The apartment was cold, so Henry went to start a fire in the fireplace, in silence, as Evie looked around. She had been to the shop before, but never his room. She soon noticed there was almost no Assassin equipment there, which was normal, those were usually kept in a secret compartment or closet, but that the books were also mostly fiction and, from Evie’s point of view, that was very telling when it came to the kind of person Henry was at home.

“Are you still angry at, Jacob.” Mr Green asked, stoking the fire.

“Yes.” It was true. “It won’t last very long, I just don’t want to go back to the train tonight.” She grinned; “I am sure Thorne is going to be thrilled to have the bed just for her.” Slowly the full meaning of those words sunk on her and she couldn’t help, but blush and look away. “You don’t need to stay up with me, you need your rest.”

He stood up; “I would rather--”

“Henry, please, don’t worry about me. I’ll just need to know where the tea is, I can sleep in the sofa of the shop if I really need it.” She held his hand; “As I said, you really need to rest and I... I think I really need some time for myself, if you don’t mind.”

He smiled and lowered his eyes to their hands, taking in the details of their enlaced fingers, her gloved hands on his and smiled. It looked good, it felt right, but at the same time, he felt there was something else, especially when he looked into her eyes. “I don’t mind.” He finally said.

“Thank you.” She bowed her head slightly. “I’ll be downstairs. Scream if you need anything.” Evie let go of his hand and slided down the latter to the shop as Henry waved at her, till long after she left.

When he finally caught himself doing that, he put his hand away, rubbing his fingers on each other, as if trying to catch something between them, something in the air itself, something that was not quite in it’s place.

Henry shook his head, dismissing those thoughts for now, as he went to undress and get to sleep.

 

(tbc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I took so long to write this. There were some problems, I took a very long to be satisfied with it, and even now... I am not sure.  
> I hope you all liked it and if you didn't... I am very sorry >


	7. Alive In Memory

**Chapter 7 - Alive In Memory**

 

_ Lucy looked to the outside of the carriage, but paid no attention to it; the streets barely registering, all she had was a vague notion of where they were going. She didn’t notice her friend’s eyes on her either, so absorbed she was in her own thoughts, mostly centered on work, as always, still Miss Attaway observed her friend with interest. _

_ “Have you seen them?” Pearl asked, leading the redheaded Templar to look at the woman sitting opposite of her. _

_ “Them?” Thorne raised an eyebrow. _

_ “The Fryes, of course.” Attaway smiled. “My dear cousin was rather adamant on showing their pictures to me, or rather, their sketches, for my safety.” The corner of her mouth curved upwards, a smile of scorn. Starrick was slightly overzealous towards his cousin and Pearl never seemed to take those too seriously. _

_ “Oh!” A red brow curved up, swiftly moving down to weighing on her eyes. “Yes, I saw them.” She took a deep breath and raised her chin. “They shan’t be a problem, just a pair of arrogant brats biting more than they can chew,” Lucy looked directly into Pearl’s eyes “and they shall choke on it. They can not defeat the Order.” _

_ The other woman couldn’t help but smile; “You’re always so confident in the Order.” _

_ Lucy looked puzzled; “Are you not?” _

_ “Oh, I certainly am, but your devotion will always be greater than mine.” Pearl observed. Silence settled between them once more, until she spoke again; “They say Mr. Frye killed Ferris. Is that true?” _

_ “Yes, as far as we know, at least a young man matching Mr Frye’s description was seen leaving his office right onto one of his trains.”  _

_ Pearl looked puzzled; “Spotted leaving the office? Why didn’t the guards stop him?” _

_ Thorne looked at her friend; “He left through the window.” _

_ The Tycoon tried to hold back a laugh, but found herself quite unable to and had to discreetly cover her mouth with her hand: “I guess that is enough proof.” _

_ The corner of the redhead’s mouth curved upwards; “One would think so.” She said, and her serious tone was so straight and grave that Pearl let out a loud laughter, throwing her head back, the sudden burst making Miss Thorne quite unable to hold back and she laughed as well. _

_ “Oh god, I am so sor--.” She laughed out loud again, before the apology could leave her lips, but she was soon able to hold her laughing fit again, let out a sigh and took a deep breath; “Poor Mr. Ferris. I guess his death was unfortunate.” _

_ “He was never much of an asset, could easily be replaced.” Lucy sneered. She hated that man, but he wasn’t the only one to die that day, and her eyes were cast down as she remembered that; “Brewster, on the other hand, was an asset and his loss will be felt.” _

_ “Oh yes, your scientist.” Pearl’s voice became serious, her mirth gone; “I was told of his passing as well.” She looked at her friend. “His wound was from a knife to the neck you know? It was probably the work of the elusive Miss Frye, there is no need for you to feel guilty.” _

_ “Whatever makes you think I feel guilty about it?” Thorne said, suddenly defensive and was met with Miss Attaway’s look. Her dark eyes were penetrating and made Lucy feel mildly uncomfortable, like she could see inside of her.  _

_ Pearl knew, somehow she knew. She always had this talent to see right into her friend’s mind it seemed, but thankful, she also knew when to not to pry; _

_ “I am sorry then, dear.” Miss Attaway smiled. “I guess I misinterpreted you.” Her eyes flashed, she knew Lucy better than that, but on her part, the redhead was thankful for her friend’s consideration; “They do look very handsome, don’t they?” She changed the subject. “The Frye twins.” _

_ Lucy gave out one reluctant nod; “Yes.” _

_ “Specially Mr Frye, but I fear that’s just my taste.” The tycoon grinned. _

_ “You’re taking this as a joke, but Pearl, please be careful.” Thorne plead. “You better get more guards, just in case.” _

_ “Oh please, Lucy.” Pearl rolled her eyes. “I doubt they’ll come after me, and if they do” she shrugged “well, everybody has their price, I can handle myself, don’t worry. I much rather that if they do come, it will be Mr Frye.” _

_ The redhead had a concerned look; “Pearl...” _

_ “What?” She asked innocently; “Mr Frye just seems less… bright than his sister, from what I’ve read.” She fetched a shimmering coin from a hidden pocket in her dress; “I’ll keep this on me, at all times if need.” And laughed. _

_ Despite her best instincts and efforts, Lucy laughed as well. _

_ ~0~ _

_ The sound of the door opening made Thorne frown, and when she spoke her voice sounded like a whip cutting the air; “What did I say about interruptions?” _

_ “S-sorry m-ma’am!” The poor maid stuttered; “I didn’t want to, ma’am, but, eh, it’s Miss Attaway!” She quickly added, sighing in relief when she saw Miss Thorne’s face relax; _

_ “Oh!” Lucy rubbed her eyes, pulling out her pocket watch. “It’s half past nine already.” She grumbled to herself. Once again, she had lost notion of the time, but Pearl was also uncharacteristically late. Thorne looked at herself. She didn’t have her coat on, her cravat was undone and her shirt had its first few buttons unfastened, far from her usual impeccable self, but all she did was sigh; “Tell Miss Attaway to come in.” _

_ “Yes ma’am!” The maid left, coming back moments later, accompanied by Miss Attaway. _

_ Lucy stood up and approached to hold her friend’s hands; “Pearl, my dearest, how are you?” She pointed at the sofa nearby. “Come, sit with me. Do you wish for something to drink?” _

_ A mischievous smile that made her look a few years younger came upon Pearl’s face; “Wine would be great.” _

_ Lucy frowned, but the sides of her mouth turned up; “You heard Miss Attaway.” She told the maid that bowed and left without needing to ask what wine to bring. “Alright, we are alone, what is it?” She said as Pearl and her sat on the sofa. _

_ “I have some amazing and impressive news!” Pearl put her hand on Lucy’s and gave her a look. _

_ “You killed the assassins?” Lucy jested. _

_ Pearl let out a loud laughter, covering her mouth; “Oh, dearest, better!” _

_ “Better?” Thorne looked confused, and at this point the butler came in with the wine and the talk had to stop as he served them. ”Better how?” Lucy asked, bringing her cup to her lips; _

_ “I just got myself a new employee. Very competent, he blew up half of my competition; Mr Jacob Frye.” and laughed at her friend’s surprise, as Lucy stopped right before the wine could touch her lips, before pulling the cup away and trying to sound calm as she asked; _

_ “What?!” _

 

**Morning:**

It was pretty early when three gentlemen, who Lucy assumed to be Morris and Sons, came into the library wagon of the train, carrying with themselves polished wood parts and a giant mattress. The wagon itself was reorganized to make space for the new comer.

“You seem surprised, Mr. Morris.” Lucy said, with a half smile.

“Well, Miss Blackthorn, this is the first time someone asked me to move a bed into a train.” The older man of the three said with a confused look. “Work is work. Let’s go boys! Let’s get this put together.”

“Thank you Mr. Morris, I’ll be in the next wagon if you need me, If you need assistance, however, ask one of my associates.” She pointed at the Rooks standing guard at the door and moved to the other wagon.

“Good morning, Miss Thorne.” She heard Henry’s voice.

“Mr. Mir.” She smiled at him; “How is your leg doing?”

“Healing faster than I expected,” He said, still shifting his weight onto one of Evie’s sword canes, that he now wore in place of the crush “but still hurts.”

“Well, that is something I can identify with.” Lucy gave out a bitter smile at that, but was able to keep a tone of jest. “Please, sit down.” She gestured the small sofa to him and he gladly took it, his attention being attracted to the sound of loud hammering in the other wagon;

“What is going on, there?” Henry asked, observing the three men working.

“That’s my bed.” She responded simply; “I figured it was time for Miss Frye to get hers back.” Lucy did her best to sound uninterested and while the reason was true, it was also just part of it, since she obviously omitted what had happened at the night of Venus. She didn’t want to talk or think about Evie, yet it was unavoidable; “Where is Miss Frye, by the way?” She managed to sound almost indifferent as she asked.

“She went straight to her room, said she needed fresh clothes.” He responded, the neutrality of the question ringing a bit strange in his ears.

“Ah.” Was all that Lucy said, relaxing back to her chair and taking a sip of her tea, a frown coming to her brow, which Henry did notice.

“She slept on my flat last night,” he quickly explained, “I am sorry if her absence worried you or Jacob, but she was fine.” He gave what would be a reassuring smile to someone with less grim outlook than Thorne had. “Just didn’t have much sleep.”

Lucy took a deep breath at that and tried to maintain calm even over the images those words conjured in her head; “Mr. Frye and I were quite alright. Both do have a habit of spending nights away from the train anyway.” She shrugged and continued to sound uninterested as she asked; “You say she didn’t slept much, why?”

“Evie was doing research in my library.” He quickly explained.

The mention of Henry having his own library, specially one where Miss Frye would prefer to do research in, managed to break Thorne’s general black mood and her voice sounded curious and slightly enthusiastic as she asked; “Yours?”

Her enthusiasm didn’t go unnoticed, and Henry smiled proudly as he responded; “Yes, I have a rather sizable collection of old assassin manuscripts.”

Lucy perked at that; “That sounds very interesting, I would love to see it!”

“I would love to show it. That is, the ones I could, some are more secretive, I am sure you would understand.” Henry smiled; “I know it will have to wait as well, Miss Frye told me of your arrangement.”

At this point Evie came in, Lucy found herself staring at the woman, or rather, glaring at her. Thankfully her eyes couldn’t shoot daggers, but Lucy Thorne was an English gentlewoman after all. One that had her emotions cause her more damage lately than it was worth, so she controlled herself and inquired with a calm voice; “Our arrangement?”

“Yes, Miss Thorne, about our separate researches?” Evie said with a serious expression. “Widening our chances of finding something.”

“Oh, of course!” Lucy forced a smile. “Completely slipped my mind.” She looked at Evie and the assassin could feel the hot glare from the redhead, some part on the back of her head fearing her hair would start to smoke just from it. “I see you told Mr. Mir of our little incident.”

“Yes! Venus!“ Henry said, excited. “According to Miss Frye, she wasn’t mentioned even once in our accounts of previous encounters with first civilization entities. At least not in the material we had seen before.”

“She was not among the Templar records either.” Lucy rubbed her chin; “I was hoping my own personal collection could tell us something, but I’ll have to wait till Mr. Morris is done before taking a look myself.” She pointed at the men working in the last wagon with a flippant gesture.

Evie frowned and shifted on her feet; “What are they doing?”

“Putting my bed together.” She responded with a slight turn of her head; “I figured it was time to let you have your own space back, Miss Frye.” She took her teacup wing with her finger and raised it towards Evie, toasting at her. “I thank you for hospitality, Miss Frye.” Thorne finished her tea.

Evie frowned. She didn’t quite know why she frowned, but she did, a weird feeling compelled her to frown at Miss Thorne no longer sharing her wagon; “Thank you.” Was all she could muster to say, but soon found more words; “Enjoy your privacy.”

“And you, yours.” Unable to hold her tongue she added; “You’ll certainly be less prone to committing mistakes, I believe my presence has been distracting and I apologize. I’ll try to keep my distance now.”

The assassin inclined her head and her eyes went wide and the fact she couldn’t actually remember what happened... Her distressed expression made Thorne smile didn’t help matters at all either.

“Well,” Henry said, making both women look at him “there is no problem in that, your comfort should come first, Miss Thorne.” He bowed his head slightly to his friend. “The research can wait, Evie.”

Evie looked at him surprise. Well, of course Henry thought the research was all she cared about. She sighed, but at him she gave a smile and nod.

~0~

“What is the password?”

Jacob smiled and responded; “Balaclava.” The door opened and in front of him was Lord Cardigan, talking endlessly about a thing or another, Jacob slowly walked behind him, as Lord Cardigan turned around and for Jacob’s surprise, he smiled.

“Oh, Mr. Frye.” He said with a smile; “I was waiting for you. Have you met Mr. Orlov?”

The assassin felt a presence behind him, followed by a telltale sound. Ethan taught him and Evie that to listen to the quieter sounds of a gun, the hammer being engaged, the trigger being pulled, the mechanism of a gun just as the hammer was about to snap and hit the bullet, the very last quiet sound of it right before-- He dodged the bullet, jumping out of the way. Jacob was unscathed, but Cardigan was hit on the stomach.

“Orlov!” said the Templar shocked, falling to his knees, but Leon ignored him, shooting at Jacob, till his gun was empty, that was when Jacob pulled out his kukri attacking the Russian directly. The blond man lifted his iron cast cane and defended against the kukri strikes, holding cane like a bat, himself swatting back against the assassin when he found an opening, until Jacob’s blade became locked with his cane, giving Jacob the first opportunity to look at him closely; Blue eyes, blond hair, muscles, tall, handsome. 

Shame he was a templar and Jacob had had more than enough of those;

“So you’re the prick who tortured Henry, huh?” He asked.

“That was nothing compared to what you’ve don--” Jacob extended his hidden blade and tried to stab Orlov as he was distracted, but the templar jumped back, hitting him in the face with the heavier part of his mace-cane.

“You’re tricky, assassins!” Orlov grinned, before attacking once again.

This time Jacob didn’t waste his time trying to defend with his kukri, electing instead to get out of the way of each blow.

“You see, Mr Frye;” Leon said with an overhead sweep, that Jacob escaped by jumping to the side “I do not really care about anything” he did an attack from the side, but Frye dodged that by ducking and trying to attack Leon from below “other than killing Thorne!” Leon hit Jacob in the hand, making his kukri be thrown away and stuck to the wall, so great was the strength of the blow.

Jacob swiped his leg, making Leon fall on his ass. “Sorry mate, Ginger is ours now.” Guards burst through the door as soon as he said that, quickly, he looked at Cardigan, that still agonized on the floor. A shot to the stomach was one of the worst ways to die, so in a last gesture of mercy, Jacob threw a smoke bomb and executed the man with his hidden blade, taking a short time to dip his handkerchief in his neck, despite the fact it was only technically his kill;

“Looks like my work here is done anyway!” The assassin, the smoke started to dissipate and Jacob smiled as he ran, picking up his kukri and escaped through the door.

Leon, face covered by an improvised gas mask, jumped on his feet and followed Jacob, standing on the other end of the corridor. He pulled a golden knife from the inside of his coat and aimed, managing to stick it on Jacob’s shoulder, making him stagger and almost fall to the ground, but he just removed the throwing knife from his shoulder, took a at look at it, pocketed it and kept going.

A smile came to the hunter’s lips.

 

**Afternoon:**

Miss Thorne had been specially quiet the greatest part of the morning, which was something that now moved into the early afternoon, while Evie herself would only talk to Henry. He and Evie were looking over the books they could access now to see if they could find anything about Venus, while Lucy looked over her own annotations, but there was a general feeling in the air; nothing would be found.

Henry looked at them both, catching the two of them sneaking looks at one another. Was there something Venus had told them? Something that was supposed to be a secret between the two? Henry took a breath and thought for a second, having an idea. He looked at the watch on Lucy’s table, they had eaten lunch just some time before;

“I’ll go make us some tea.” He said suddenly and bowed his head, leaving both women alone.

As soon as he did, Evie laid the book on the table at her side, falling to her knees in front of Thorne’s cushioned chair. The redhead looked at her, eyebrow raised.

“What’s with the dramatic pose, Frye?” Lucy’s voice was soaked in irony. She couldn’t say she knew what Evie wanted, but she had a few suspicions.

“What happened?” The assassin went straight to the point, her eyes on Thorne’s, hardened and serious, but the redhead couldn’t help but smile in amusement, thinking for a second how much fun she could possibly have without lying for a second.

“Whatever are you talking about, Miss Frye?” She asked, incapable of keeping the edge of cruel humor on her voice.

“Don’t play games with me Thorne!” The assassin warned her. “That night.. I was drunk, I was not being myself.”

Lucy’s eyes slowly settled into a realization; “You really can’t remember a thing, can you?”

“No...” Evie admitted in a whisper; “Did I… Did I do anything I would regret if I remembered?”

The redhead looked into her eyes. She looked so deeply apprehensive, for herself of course, after all there was no bigger mistake than she could had made than, well, Lucy.

“Yes.” Lucy responded. “You did do some things you might regret,” she grinned “but I didn’t.” She said, and Evie stood up with a jump, her face had a horrified expression and her breath was heavy. Seeing her like that filled Lucy with satisfaction and she smiled with a selfish happiness over the idea of panicking Miss Frye for a second before giving her the full story.

“I can’t believe you would be so--” there was the heavy sound of something hitting the top of the wagon.

“Jacob...” Said both women at the same time and their words were soon followed by the man himself, Jacob coming through the entrance and as he came in they saw he grabbed his shoulder under his jacket with a grimace, pulling his hand out to look at it; “Hey Ginger, can you--Oh.” He noticed his sister. “Evie.”

“Jacob.” She bowed her head slightly. Her angered, tense expression causing Jacob to be sure she was still angry at him. There was a heavy silence where Lucy’s eyes went from sibling to the other without understanding the looks, at least not fully.

“Cardigan is dead.” He said.

Evie raised an eyebrow; “Good! Let us pray that doesn’t collapse the government.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and Jacob grinded his teeth, but before he could say anything, Lucy laughed, breaking the tension;

“Sorry, but the very idea that Brudenell of all people would make any difference in our government is deeply laughable to me.” Thorne explained with great mirth in her voice. “That man was always just a tool for Starrick.”

“Oh, like you?” Evie shot back, unable to hold her tongue back, still bitter.

“Yes.” Was the response, and Evie was surprised by it.

“Thorne--” She started, when Lucy cut her;

“Miss Frye, spare me.” The redhead dismissed her with one gesture, in fact didn’t look one bit bothered by it, and looked at Jacob; “He did a long speech about being a war hero before dying didn’t he?” She asked. A small smile formed as a memory came to her; “I’ll never forget the day he cornered poor Pearl, probably thinking he was charming her with his endless talking. She kept shooting me looks, her eyes were begging me to rescue her.” Lucy shook her head.

The mention of Pearl’s first name name made Jacob jump, till that point it never occurred to him that Thorne and Attaway could had been that intimate. However, there was no time to think of that now; 

“Maybe he would if he have had the chance, but that didn’t happen.” Jacob said. “Your little Russian friend showed up first.” He took the knife stained with his own blood from his pocket.

“Are you hurt?” Evie asked, there was considerable softness in her voice now.

“Nothing to worry about.” He said, removing his coat, there was blood in some quantity, but the biggest damage was to the coat. 

Evie took the blade from his hand, examining it with a clinical eye; “Damascus steel, very sharp and heavy, well balanced still, a very good throwing knife, but the weight is still… Unusual.” She looked at the handle and noticed that it had miniscule holes in it, she felt a really particular smell, under the blood, when she approached it to her nose.

Jacob shrugged, snatching it it from his sister’s hand; ”Oh, you know those templars and how much they love to flaunt their money around, no offense Ginger.” He told Lucy.

Thorne, that had gone back to her reading, just dismissed it with a wave.

He smirked and looked at the knife again; “I liked it though, makes a nice trophy.” He added, raising his head, he saw something on the back of the train. “Uh, excuse me, I have something to do.” He walked off to another one of the wagons, towards Henry.

“Miss Blackthorn, we’re done.” Mr Morris said, coming in and addressing Lucy.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Morris, thank you. You can wait till we reach your station on the wagon bar, it’s two wagons over. Tell them to put it on Miss Frye’s tab.” She bowed her head as the man took off his hat briefly and went with his sons to the bar.

Evie raised an eyebrow at her, immediately deducing that Thorne had given a fake name. She looked at the woman, they were alone again and the assassin shifted on her feet, staring the redhead down and spoke in a low serious voice;

“You will tell me in detail what happened that night!”

“Right now?” Lucy asked defiantly.

Evie opened her mouth, but she heard Jacob and Henry coming down to their wagon, she looked at them quickly and whispered; “Tonight.”

“As you wish.” Thorne whispered back, as Jacob and Henry came into the wagon.

 

**Evening:**

The news were spreading slowly through what was left of the ranks of the Blighters, whispered quietly between those trying to avoid the eyes and ears of the Rooks, trying to keep close to the templar guard that still roamed the streets in the absence of their old leadership, now dead or in jail, those who still had some respect inside the gang, those were just slightly above everybody else were now given a chance.

Or so they were hoping, but the fact at the moment was that they were just reunited in a dingy room and offered a lot of money by a tall, blond man with a funny accent to pretend they were in control while he pulled the strings. 

Most of them, turns out, were fine with that. The one who wasn’t, Colin the Butcher, got killed with one swift attack of that horrible cane the man with the funny accent carried.

Leon knew that as a foreigner the Blighters would not trust him at all, so instead, he sought out those seven, now six, to do his work; They were a pathetic bunch, lacking all training and discipline, but they didn’t have to be perfect, they had to be competent, but even if that was hard to believe they could have.

His first order was to find the best ones they still had. Best shooters, best fighters, best runners, best spies and so on, and have them reunited, those would be more useful to him, but for now, all he did was sit on the side as the new leaders roused the Blighters.

From Leon’s point of view it was an amazing spectacle.

The fury, the bitterness, the willingness to fight at the least provocation. Those men and women were desperate, lost and above all, stupid, as humans often were. He wished he could bring the assassins to watch this, show them how many were perfectly willing to throw themselves into a blade for revenge or anger or money, ask them if these animals were really the ones they wanted to set free in the world.

This was the reason why Templars existed; so at least this bunch of sheep fancying themselves wolves would be well directed, so their anger would go to the right place, show the way and light the path, so at least they wouldn’t be lost in their own stupidity. They would be serving the purpose; to serve those who know better and in trade be protected by them.

He caressed the head of his dog, a beautiful mix of hound and jackal he had bred into existence himself;

“Tatiana, if you could talk,” he spoke in their mother tongue “you would be smarter than any of those ones.” Orlov joked and the puppy lovingly laid her head on his strong thigh, making him smile and scratch behind her ear.

“Sir.” One of the new Blighter leaders, Olga Plumb, younger sister of the fallen gang leader of Southwark walked in. She was short and thin, her hair was the same sandy blonde color as her sister’s, but her nose was smaller and her features not as harsh. “I managed to identify the ones you asked for, do you want me to bring them here?”

Leon looked at her; “Not yet, Miss Plumb,” he responded “just show me who they are, I shall seek them out myself.”

Anne put both hands on her back; “If I am allowed to ask sir; Why?”

“People like to feel special, Miss Plumb.” Orlov explained, scratching Tatiana’s neck “If I make it seem like I single each one of them out on my own they will feel like greater assets than they are, it will be easier to secure their loyalty if I play my cards right. Plus, being able to observe them from afar will give me the opportunity to measure their skills on my own.”

“I understand sir.” The blonde girl responded, somewhat intrigued. “Very well, I imagine you want the locations where they usually dwelve.”

He nodded, his attention turned to the puppy laying on her back so he could scratch her belly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“It’s done sir.” She took a paper from her pocket and offered it to him, making Orlov look up, surprised.

He took the paper from her hand and looked at it. The most complete ones had their names, how they were known, their address, abilities and areas where they were most active and present, but even the one with most scarce info had at least three of those items. Leon was impressed; “Efficient, Miss Plumb.” The admiration in his voice was sincere “You seem to have some personal interest in this.”

“I heard you were going after the Fryes and their Rooks.” Her voice calm and cold, as was her expression, but her light blue eyes seemed to stir something more. “Miss Frye killed my sister, she was a gang leader.”

“I see.” Leon looked down on the paper again. “Octavia Plumb of Southwark, right?”

She nodded.

“So, you’re doing this because you wish to kill Miss Frye?” He asked.

“No.” She responded curtly “I wish to take my home back.”

“Your home?” Orlov inquired.

“Southwark is my home; The Plumb family ruled over it, it belonged to us, even before Roth came to London, my whole family used to run every single street and now I am the last one.” She raised her chin. “It’s my duty.”

“Miss Plumb,” Leon looked at her and smile; “would you consider working directly for me?”

~0~

Ned was still angry, but at least he wasn’t furious anymore, walking on the streets in the cool evening air helped him think, despite how tired he was from the lack of sleep that night, and the thing annoying him was a quite simple conclusion;

He might have kissed Jacob had he ASKED, alas, that was not what he did! He just kissed him without his consent or consideration and now the thief was angry and lost. Before he thought that Jacob saw him by the man he was, he thought Jacob respected that, but he also knew there were no signs the gang leader was interested in men and the very idea of someone trying to woo him while thinking that made him furious all over again, including a feeling of being sick to his stomach.

That wasn’t all of course, it was just the part that related to Ned, there was also a problem with the gang leader himself;

When Ned looked at Jacob, he couldn’t help, but see the living embodiment of a mess. Jacob Frye needed approval and praise like a cripple needed a crutch, and that was what Ned felt that both Attaway and Roth were to him, crutches, dishing praise before breaking on him, letting him fall to the ground again. He would not allow himself to be a crutch for another person.

The worse about those two was also that Ned warned him! Twice over! Yet, Jacob did the same thing. Suddenly, Miss Evie’s general frustration with her younger brother became all the more comprehensible to him.

He reached his destination; the Fighting Rink. The room was full of cigar smoke that combined with the yellow lights gave it an oppressive atmosphere that Ned absolutely adored. 

“Ah, dear friend, Mr. Wynert!” Said Rob, as soon as he saw him, tipping his hat. “Did you come to collect already, milord? It seems a bit early for me.”

“Got that right Topping.” Ned responded. “I decided to watch a few fights.” He looked around. “I like this place, I’ll take it out by the end of the night, still, I would like to see it.” Topping bowed his head and started to move, followed by Ned; “How did I do this week?”

“Very well my friend,” Rob said as he conducted his friend towards the back room; “a few golden watches, some jewelry, someone even bet a cavalry sword, most of those yesterday, in fact!”

Ned inclined his head “How did that happen?”

“New contender, broke the Frye’s record.”

“Oh? Of both?” Ned asked and Robert nodded, opening a crate on the back of the room filled with all the things that the bookie had described, ready to have Ned do his vanishing act that would turn all of them into money; “Amazing.” Finished the thief. “Who would be this amazing creature?”

“A certain new friend of them, Miss Thorne,” the man smiled, “though I do not think that they know. You know how protective of his title Mr. Frye is.”

“Hm.” Was the only response.

“However, she did forget something.” Topping pulled out a dagger from its sheath, before it was in a separated chest that was in a table away from the crate. The blade was diamond-shaped; thin at the base, widening into two sharp points at about a third of the length, and progressively thinner towards the tip. The ornate weapon was completely black, seemingly made from a single piece of metal and had very clear, very well made details. Ned took the weapon from Topping’s hand and tested the blade in a bit of the superficial skin of his thumb, it cut it easily and precisely. He held it in his hand feeling the weight and the center of mass of it and, impressed, he said;

“It’s a great weapon.” He twirled it in his hand with no problem. “I wonder where Miss Thorne got it.”

“I have no idea either, but I found it strange she didn’t came back for it either.” Rob explained with a shrug. “You seem to be spending a lot of time in their train lately, I wonder if you could deliver it that to her.”

“Couldn’t you wait till she showed up again?” Wynert looked away.

“I could, but I don’t know when that will happen and I don’t like keeping it around, too many honorless thieves around” he looked at Ned adding “present company excluded, of course” with a tip of his hat.

Ned let out a chuckle. He didn’t want to see Jacob at all, but still there were other means. “I can get it delivered for sure.”

“Marvelous, milord!” Topping said enthusiastically and gave him the sheath. “Here, so you may carry it safely.”

“Thanks, Robert.” Ned tied it to his belt and then he looked at the crate “Ah, damn it, this can’t wait till the end of the night, I’ll have to leave now, while it’s still early... Could you get someone to help me with the crate, Rob?”

“I can help!” Ned recognized the voice and huffed, without turning he knew that there was Jacob standing at the door.

“That won’t be necessary Frye.” Wynert didn’t looked at him at all. “Rob, go get some grunts to do this”

Feeling the tension in the air, Rob stood up and tipped his hat leaving.

Jacob scratched behind his neck uncomfortably; “I guess you’re still angry at me?” 

Ned let out a sigh of frustration; “Oh, great reasoning there, Dupin!” Lifting his spectacles, he pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes for sometime, and then suddenly snapped; “Are you surprised, really?”

The gang leader took a step back; “Look, I am sorry, but--”

“NO! No ‘buts’! Sorry wouldn’t have cut it either!” The thief took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Jacob, you know what your problem is? You’re--” Ned stopped and took another deep breath, throwing his hand to the air in a dismissive gesture. “Forget it, I am not here for that! You’re a grown man!” He put a finger to Jacob’s chest, poking him; “Figure it out!”

“I obviously don’t know!” Jacob screamed back “God! What now? You’re just like Evie, acting like you know something that I don’t! Why not stop being so bloody mysterious and speak up!”

“You wouldn’t listen!” Wynert screamed back.

“How can you be so sure?!”

“Because you won’t believe anything that isn’t flattery!” Ned was breathless from the screaming, but he looked Jacob in the eyes and finally spoke up. “You’re constantly trusting people you shouldn’t trust just because they tell you what you want to hear! 

“That’s why you’re so angry at your sister all the time, that’s why Attaway had you wrapped around her little finger. That was why you worked with a goddamned maniac! Because your stupidity was VERY useful for her while and your desperate need for approval left you completely blind! And I that’s not even the worse part! You know what the worse part is Jacob?” The assassin opened his mouth, ready to scream back his defence; “SHUT UP! I am not done!” Ned silenced him.

Ned looked him straight in the eyes; “You don’t need this! That’s the worst part! You’re better than this and you don’t even know it!”

“YOU SHUT UP NOW! Don’t you DARE giving me that shit!!!” Jacob screamed back. The old ‘You’re better than this’ was the worst thing to hear and after that, he couldn’t stand being there anymore. “Sorry about the kiss Wynert, go to goddamned, fucking, bloody hell!” And stomped off.

 

_ He loved the sound of his name on her lips, but even more when they were fucking, because then, as it left her lips, it felt like it came out of a long journey that had started somewhere in her core and took the breath of her lungs as it passed by it, lumping her throat even more than the hidden blade-clad hand she begged him to hold to it ever could, and taking her mouth before it left her lips. _

_ Pearl enjoyed the artlessness of how he did it, pressing her against a wall sustaining her up with one hand on her rear, her legs gripping Jacob’s hips fiercely, so his hand could still around her throat, she enjoyed his roughness and to that, she responded in kind, leaving long traces of her nails on his back as he thrusted, faster and stronger, building up until she screamed and drew blood from his back. _

_ He never pressed her throat, he never left her breathless by any other means than his performance, but she liked his hand there and now Jacob asked himself if it was the threat of death, the fact he was an assassin and she knew it, and knew he would have to kill her if he discovered she was lying and using him. _

_ Yet, he never saw fear in her eyes as he held a blade to her throat, he didn’t see it when he killed her. He was an assassin, he could tell, as unperceptive as he was, fear was something he could understand, but Jacob only saw fear in her eyes once they were alone and just quietly talking, he said one thing or another that made her laugh or made her happy, in those moments she would look at him and there she would be afraid and he could never tell exactly of what. _

_ ~0~ _

_ “You’re playing a dangerous game, Pearl.” Lucy had laid her cup of tea that frankly found herself unable to continue to drink. She had a bad feeling on the pit of her stomach that had only gotten worse after Pearl told her about her little affair with Mr. Frye. “You know how men are. Specially men who already are killers by nature.” _

_ Pearl let out a dismissive laugh “That only makes it more interesting, don’t you think?” She sighed when her friend didn’t laugh with her. In fact, Lucy was giving her an intense stare and Pearl, couldn’t help, but smile at her friend, touched by her concern. _

_ She laid her cup and saucer on the table moving closer and holding the redhead’s hand in her’s; “I am very lucky to have a friend like you,” Pearl’s deep voice was sincere, but soon was tinged with mirth as she spoke; “but you worry too much. I have him wrapped around my little finger.” _

_ Lucy looked at her friend in silence and Pearl went back to her position, letting go of her friend’s hand, also quiet, her eyes wandered to outside of the window, looking at the rare sunny day and she retrieved something from her pocket, a single coin that she looked at with interest. Lucy frowned. _

_ “What so important about that coin?” She asked and Pearl looked at her and smiled again. _

_ “Its his coin.” Lucy looked at her puzzled. “The one I said I would pay him with. I still carry it with me.” _

_ Lucy frowned “Why?” _

_ “Still waiting for the moment when I might have to buy him.” Pearl joked, as she still examined the coin. “He wears a shilling around his neck, you know. Says it’s a memento from his father.” _

_ “I can make sure Crawford gives it to you, after we kill him.” Lucy jested with a cruel grin and pretended she didn’t saw the mild shock that passed her friend’s eyes, before she also laughed, trying not to consider the sad possibility of her dearest friend actually caring for that assassin mongrel. _

 

“Nothing...” Evie said exhausted, leaving another book aside. “Any luck?” And got a distant denial gesture from Lucy, whose head was obviously in other things, and a quiet negative word from Henry. The assassin rubbed her eyes. “Looks like Venus really doesn’t want us to know.”

“Yes, I agree.” Mr Green said, setting the book he had in his hand aside; “However, we still need to decide what will be done about the Queen’s ball.”

Lucy looked up as Green’s last words brought up from the memory of her friend; “Queen’s ball?”

“Yes.” Evie started. “There is a secret vault somewhere in the Buckingham Palace grounds, Mr. Green and I think the Shroud was housed there, after being moved from the Tower of London.”

“And where is that vault?” Lucy inquired.

“We don’t know.” This time, Henry responded, “That information is also in the palace. Most likely the white drawing room!”

“Henry and I think that the ball would be the perfect opportunity to get to the Shroud, or at least discover where the Vault is.” she sighed. “The problem is that we have no idea how to get into the Ball.”

“I was wondering if perhaps you have a contact that could lead us to the palace.”

Lucy raised both eyebrows “Oh, yes, I did; Lord Cardigan.”

Evie and Henry sighed. 

“Is there any chance of you getting an invitation?” Henry asked.

“I doubt it. My tea trading company does quite well, but has to yet render me invitations to those events, especially now, without either Starrick or Cardigan’s endorsement. My fame precedes me, I feel, and I have made intimate acquaintances of certain ladies that might be made uncomfortable by my presence.” She grinned quite widely at Evie’s slight blush, but then went quiet for a few seconds, before suddenly asking; “Have you talked to your brother about this?” Lucy asked.

“Jacob?” Evie crooked an eyebrow surprised.

Lucy rolled her eyes; “Yes, Jacob. Isn’t he well acquainted with Mrs. Disraeli? Maybe there would be a way for the prime minister and her to arrange a pair of invitations for you two.”

Henry’s eyes lit up: “That’s a good idea, Miss Thorne!”

“If it works.” Evie said.

Lucy looked up, annoyed; “Oh, I am sorry, Miss Frye; Do you have a better plan?”

The master assassin laughed; “So defensive Miss Thorne, I was just pointing out that it might not work.” Her eyebrow raise as she looked at Thorne with a mirthful expression.

The ex-templar frowned, not really in the mood for that, but before she could say anything, there was a loud sound of someone landing on top of the wagon.

“Jacob.” Stated all three occupants at the same time, and it was soon followed by the man himself at the door.

“Starrick is making his move.” Evie said as soon as he came in. “He is going to get the Shroud at the queen’s ball--”

“Let him have it.” He said, walking right by his sister and going to his wagon and was soon followed by a furious Evie that was herself followed by a worried Henry.

On her part, Lucy wisely decided to stay exactly where she was and observed the spectacle from her chair, when the train would allow it between the curves of the way, Evie trying to tell her brother something, she could not hear their voices clearly, but the tone was there; 

Evie was fed up and her voice had that kind of arrogance that people like her so often used to cover up hurt, Jacob was furious as he spoke, his sister had obviously said something that annoyed him, but when she spoke again her voice calmer, lower, not any less arrogant, but the hurt was better hidden;

Before she could end, however, she was cut by a loud scream from her brother:

“FATHER IS DEAD!!”

Lucy jumped on her chair slightly, those words were full of fury and screamed in such volume she heard them perfectly, the only thing in the whole conversation she fully understood, but before things could escalate, Mr. Mir interrupted, playing the voice of reason again, it sounded like, the rest of the talk was too quiet even for listening or understanding their tones, but there was something unsettling about the way they looked right after the train went into a curve, causing Lucy to lose sight of the three for a long time.

When the train finally aligned itself, both Evie and Henry were gone, but Lucy could see Jacob sitting on the sofa, elbows on his knees and face covered by his hands.

Thorne stood up and got another book.

 

**Night:**

He was alone in a dark office, there was nothing in his home to go back to, no more reunions to organize, everybody he once knew and kept close to him were now gone, one way or another. Now tea didn’t cut it anymore as he drunk a bitter dry wine that reminded him of his mother.

Crawford Starrick was a second son and from early in his life, ever since he gained the power to understand, he knew that wasn’t much for him. His father didn’t care much for him, always valuing his brother over him and that hurt him a lot, as child he would run to his mother and cry on her skirts, she would smile and play with his hair and make him feel better.

His mother always had attentive eyes and ears for him, for everyone of his accomplishments she would have something to say, always sincere and always critical, praising when deserved, as well. Crawford had always felt his mother’s pride and approval had logic to it, he had to earn it and with time he grew to value her opinions and views more and wanted to be more like her, but still, still, he wanted his father’s approval.

Until one day, shortly after his eleventh birthday, he once again found himself wanting to cry and ran to his mother, but this time everything changed, when instead of her usual comprehensive words, she held his chin up and made him look into her eyes.

_ “You’re quite grown now, son.” _ She said firmly.  _ “Stop crying.” _ And he did. It was simple following her orders, she was a woman of power and intelligence, more than his father could always command. She told him to stand up straight and he did, and she told him to keep it in, and he did. A week later she told him about the templars and took him to the order, something she hadn’t done with his brother.

Starrick build the order on his image and then made London with the same mold and in it, he excluded the old blood, with very few exceptions and filled it with what he considered the best, usually by influence and money, some for being visionaries, but Lucy... Lucy had passion, she was fascinated by the Precursors, a hunger that he found admirable.

Including her in the order was one of the best things he had done, she was so driven it took her a relatively short time to find one of the pieces of Eden. She believed in the order too, that they could make the world better, make humanity better, but the loss of it in the explosions of the laboratory and Brewster’s death, plus Thorne’s views and strange bounds of mercy, such as letting the constable of the Tower of London live, resulting her and her guards almost being captured, despite the fact she managed to shoot Miss Frye.

He put her up as his second in command because, she was the most competent among them and her research was the most important thing, after his own job, but her temper was always a problem and so was her misguided notion of how the Shroud should be used. 

She wanted to research it, explore how it worked, he had allowed her to do it once, he had an artifact in his own hands and he allowed her to have it, to do her research and that was how the lab exploded and Brewster died, but still, she insisted on it being the way to deal with the Shroud as well, and that was why Starrick knew that as soon as her mission was done, Lucy would have to leave.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make, he did value her as a friend, he enjoyed her company and her person a lot more than he would let out most of the time which, yes, once led to one indiscretion in one of Pearl’s parties that fortunately didn’t present any further consequences. In many ways he saw her as a friend, which was why he offered her support in the future in his letter.

Of course he didn’t expect her to react well to it, he knew her and her temper too well. In spite of that, he also knew that he waited for the right moment, but someone had ruined that plan and once again, Miss Thorne’s temper got in the way and now, she was going to die and then, he would really be alone.

He was ready.

~0~

It was curiosity finally winning over that made Lucy stand up and go see what happened earlier after all and as she reached the frontmost wagons of the train, she saw that the door to Evie’s was still closed, but Jacob was sitting back on his sofa. He didn’t looked like his usual relaxed self. He looked slumped, sad even, his eyes fixated on that dreadful assassination wall.

Lost in his own thoughts, Jacob didn’t notice her approaching so Lucy had time to observe the wall herself for sometime. 

There were many things in that wall; maps, places, notes, but above all was a picture of Starrick, to his left was a picture of herself, which brought a quick memory of the vision in the clouds, making Lucy feel the phantom pain of a wound that never happened, causing her to move her shoulder in discomfort, despite the fact that now her picture now sustained a blue circle around her face with an “A” written besides it.

“How well did you know Pearl?” Jacob asked suddenly, his mouth slurring the words slightly, as his eyes were down on the bottle that he rolled between his palms.

Lucy looked at him slightly surprised. Pearl had told her about their affair, but it wasn’t the first her friend had had and never before she had allowed them to call her by her first name. Perhaps her surprise got a very sincere answer from her; “She was my best friend.”

He looked up at her for a second, then took a swig from his beer; “She talked about you.” He added, and that really surprised Lucy again; “She didn’t call you by your name of course, but now I could tell she was talking about you.” Jacob remembered clearly, in their carriage rides, as they held each other while regaining their breaths, the most random of topics always came up.

“I see...” Was the only response.

“Did she talk about me?” He asked. 

Lucy was silent, her face giving almost nothing away. 

Jacob laughed; “She must have had… That idiot she had wrapped around her little finger to do all of her dirty deeds.” The gang boss frowned. “Destroy for her, steal for her, kill for her!” He grinded his teeth, and forced his eyes closed, suddenly snapping them open. “All the while I was nothing to her and yet I...” He went silent and opened his eyes, licking his lips. “Bloody hell... Sorry, Ginger.”

She observed him, his movements, his face, his voice, body language, and a sudden realization came to Thorne. One that made her rub her eyes and let out a sigh. “Oh, god, you were in love with her, weren’t you?”

He stood up and looked away, throwing his head back slightly, a sign of frustration, then he turned to Lucy and shrugged in a comical manner with a goofy and forced closed mouth smile. “Does it make a difference though… She just used me. I knew she would never love me back, but what she did was too much and still...” He let out a tired, heavy breath, as his body itself seemed to deflate. “Still, I wish there was another way.”

Thorne thought of the things that had happened to her, not only recently, but a few years back and suddenly, she found herself quite unable to hate Jacob as she did before. A part of her still wanted to kill him, but another one could sympathise with him and that was the one who spoke; “I guess it’s a family trait... Just like her cousin.”

Jacob looked at her, she looked sincere, and her voice sounded strangely soft as she spoke, that whole day, it was the first time he felt someone wasn’t giving him any grief and was about to open his mouth to say something when Evie opened her door, coming into that wagon.

“Miss Thorne!” She said surprised at finding her brother and the redhead having what seemed to be a rather civilized conversation; “I was coming to look for you.” her eyes from one to the other “I am very sorry to interrupt, but we need to talk.”

Lucy put both her hands behind her back, going back to her usual position, her face setting back to a serious expression with just a touch of an arrogant smile on her mouth; “I am all ears, Miss Frye.”

“Privately.” Evie gave her a look. “In my wagon.”

The redhead bowed her head slightly; “Lead the way.”

The two women were about to enter the wagon when there was the heavy sound of something landing on top of the train.

“Jacob.” Lucy and Evie said at same time.

“Yes?” Asked the very own, confused with their sudden call, but all three were rended silent when on the opposite end of the wagon a hooded figure appeared, taking steps towards them with both arms crossed over his chest. The twins exchanging looks, while Lucy suddenly realized that Evie had moved in front of her in an unexpectedly protective manner.

The figure huffed, lifting his head and crossing his arms.

“I told you two not to come, didn’t I?”

George Westhouse sounded as tired as he looked.

 

(tbc)


	8. Miss Harriet Fairfax

**Chapter 8 - Miss Harriet Fairfax**

 

_ My Dearest Frank. _

_ I hope this letter finds you in good health. _

_ My work in Blackthorn Hall is almost done and the prospect of finally seeing you again fills my heart with happiness and expectation. I miss home and all of my friends dearly, but you most of all. Not one day goes by I don’t long for your presence to the point my heart aches. Still there is a part of me that can’t help but feel I shall miss my charge dearly. I never expected that the work of a governess for a single young girl could be so fulfilling, but here I am, already sure I shall miss her. _

_ You’ve inquired after my charge and I must say that Miss Lucy is doing very well. Everyday she reveals herself a gifted young woman with a bright future ahead of her, her intelligence and charm seem to enchant anyone she desires to, which is by itself a rare occurrence since my pupil doesn’t seem to desire to charm much, favoring more her sincere, almost blunt, nature.  _

_ Her temper is also to be mentioned as it is quick to fury when she finds herself before what she believes to be unfair, which has of lately extended to not only offenses to her, but to others as well. I believe it is a progress at least. Still a temper is a temper and something that young women are supposed to control and fortunately, Lucy does have a tendency to listen when my arguments are logical. _

_ Despite her shortcomings, those true and those perceived, she has been of an exceedingly good mood lately. Her uncle, Sir Cornelius, has just returned from Rio de Janeiro, after having fought in the Uruguayan Civil War. He apologised profusely to her for taking so long to come back, but he was detained in the capital of the Empire of Brazil by other matters. Lucy was peeved, but it didn’t take much talking from her favorite uncle to get her to forgive him. _

_ An invitation for the theater seemed to do the trick, but to my surprise she insisted I went as well. We formed a merry party, Sir Cornelius, his dear friend and brother in arms, Captain Bertram, Lucy and I.  _

_ I even had the opportunity to talk to Sir Cornelius myself. A very pleasant man, seems to truly worry about his niece’s happiness, and confessed to me the reason for his longer stay was a wound that almost killed him, something he was hesitant to tell Lucy. I don’t even want to think about what the news would do to her, but fortunately luck was on our side. _

_ He also got Lucy a puppy, of the rottweiler breed. She named him Byron and he follows her everywhere. She seems rather keen on training him, dedicating quite a lot of time to it, which fortunately has not been cutting on my tutoring, since my charge and I managed to work out a schedule that made us both (and her parents, of course) happy. _

_ Speaking of my charge’s parents, despite how much they didn’t seem very satisfied with my teaching methods at first, I think I managed to make them come around to see my point of view. The fact I was the first governess to not run away screaming from Lucy helped, but looking at her, I have no idea how that happened. She is passionate and smart, perhaps that was overwhelming for a few of her governesses, more used to dealing with more docile young people. _

_ For one, I am proud of Lucy, if I ever have a little girl, I shall hope for her to be just like her. (...) _

 

**Morning:**

_ “How angry is the council?” Evie asked, quietly. _

_ Westhouse scoffed “Oh, they were enjoying your progress and accepting my idea of leniency, till you two recruited a templar.” _

It was at that point that Lucy stopped listening in and went to her bed, managing to sleep soundly somehow. She wanted to have nothing to do with the discussion, she was tired of hearing of her old affiliations by this point, she was by no means sold on the the assassin’s views, but if Crawford, the grand master that prided himself on being a perfect image of the order, could act the way he did, she knew she couldn’t trust the templars either. 

She had a lot of work the day after as well, already decided to go to the fight club and see if her dagger was there, and if not, probably turn all of London upside down after the weapon, an item so treasured that when she woke up, seeking it out was the first thought in her head. Thorne still couldn’t believe she had forgotten the dagger. In fact, she clearly remembered having it around her waist when she left, but no matter, she could only be wrong after all. 

Lucy quickly got dressed the next morning ready to go out and fetch it, and that was when she came across George Westhouse.

“Good morning, Miss Thorne. I believe we have yet to be properly introduced.” The assassin that came the night before said, he bowed his head slightly. “I am George Westhouse.”

“Lucy Thorne, but I doubt you need me to introduce myself to you.” She pointed at the assassination wall.

He let out an amused exhale; “Yes, I do. I also have a few questions, nonetheless...”

Thorne let out a tired sigh; “Didn’t Miss and Mr Frye already tell you everything you needed to know?”

“There are things they can’t tell me.” George, looked at her, he had penetrating eyes and right now they were very focused on her face. “Your story sounds plausible enough, but with all due respect, Miss Thorne, excuse me if I don’t trust your sincerity yet.”

“That’s a wise decision, but still, with all due respect, Mr Westhouse; I don’t care.” Lucy’s voice was cutting and direct. “I owe you or the assassins no respect or sympathy, I still think you’re foolish and wrong, however, I am a woman of my own sense of loyalty that won’t tolerate betrayal, which was what Starrick did to me and he will pay.” She took a breath; “That same consideration for my own loyalty is what keeps me here. I made an exchange, and as long as the Fryes keep their side of the bargain, I’ll keep mine, and as proof ask them about the times I put myself in risk for them, including for Mr. Mir, and their words, I believe, will hold more sway on you than mine.” She lifted her chin. “Is that sincere enough for you?”

Westhouse looked at her, not with surprise or anger, but with an analytical expression. Almost as if he saw something of familiar in her face, but that he couldn’t exactly place it and in his distraction, the only response was a slow nod.

“Good!” Thorne adjusted her coat. “I think we are done.”

“Good morning Miss Thorne.” Ned said, coming in through the wagon bar.

“Mr. Wynert.” Lucy said bowing her head slightly and saw Ned looking towards George with curiosity. Introducing them would be only polite; “This is Mr. George Westhouse, he is a friend of the Fryes.”

Ned shook hands with with George, trading pleasantries for a second, before turning to Lucy again. “I have something for you, Miss Thorne.” He opened his coat and presented her with her dagger, Lucy’s eyes going wide and illuminated with happiness as he did so; “I believe this belongs to you. Robert said you forgot it at the fight club after you took the title from the twins.”

“Thanks, Mr Wynert, this means a lot to me.” She held the dagger with appreciation, vaguely remembering now she had confronted Mr. Topping with it after leaving the club and there was something rather puzzling he told her.

“It is a beautiful weapon, and very well made too.” Ned admitted, putting both hands in his pockets.

Lucy let out a slight laugh “Even if it wasn’t, I would still treasure it; This was a present from Miss Fairfax, my governess. The last thing she gave me before leaving.” She looked at the weapon fondly. “Never heard from her again, this is the only thing I have to remember her by.”

“I can understand that.” Ned smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the need to change the subject out of respect for Miss Thorne, knowing how those high class English types were about their feelings; “Congratulations on your victories. Rob told me you took away--” he stopped and chuckled “--well I already said.”

The redhead smirked at that; “That I took their title? Yes, you can mention it again, I rather like hearing it. It wasn’t that hard, perhaps for my next fight I should take on one of them.”

“Now that” Ned said with a smart gesture, “would be an interesting fight to watch. I wouldn’t place any bets, thought. I don’t like losing money.” He grinned and tipped his hat with a slight bow. “ Well, Miss Thorne, Mr. Westhouse if you excuse me, I better go now, send my regards to the Fryes.” With a last wave and tip of his hat, he left.

Lucy turned back to George and was surprised to find him staring at her; “Staring is impolite, Mr. Westhouse.”

“Your governess gave you a dagger?” His eyebrow was raised, but also heavy, there was strange sort of weight to his eyes.

“Yes!” Lucy said and her voice couldn’t help but sound a bit defensive. “Surprised I got training and a weapon when I was young? I thought assassins were trained since they were children.”

Westhouse looked her in the eyes, his face assuming a more neutral expression; “I wasn’t raised an assassin--”

“I have no time to hear that story,” Lucy cut out, his look starting to make her uneasy, she didn’t liked how he seemed to be judging Miss Fairfax badly “the time to strike is coming, we should be getting ready. If you don’t like my presence, well, that’s not my problem.” 

“You made that clear.” He said, softly.

“Good. Excuse me.” Throne then left for her wagon.

George watched her leave with interest, a perplexed look that followed her till she disappeared in a curve of the train’s snake-like body. He rubbed his stubble thoughtful, and left the train, decided to go visit Henry.

~0~

It was a room illuminated only by one window, the office part of an old, unassuming warehouse that was so worn down that it was useless for its original purpose, or any propose if it was not connected to the templar underground tunnels. In the table sat Leon and by his side was Olga, standing up in attention like a soldier, and on the floor Tatiana quietly took a nap, completely oblivious to the oppressive atmosphere.

Leon spoke slowly; “So, she asked you to go to this house,” his pauses adding something of intimidation to his deep voice and smooth rhythmic accent “and give this money to the lady living there?”

The Rook nodded. He was among the members of the Frye’s gang that had been convinced to work in the new information network that Leon had been building, seeking out the Russian man as soon as he heard that there was a nice compensation going around for anyone who had information on the redheaded woman and was immediately singled out by Olga.

“Do you have any idea why?” The Russian asked, reclining back on his chair.

“No sir.” The rook responded. “She just… Asked me my name, gave me the money and said she would hunt me down and kill me if I didn’t deliver it to the right place, it seemed pretty urgent. I really needed the money, but I know the bosses would be angry if I did anything”

“And the house had only this old woman living there?”

“Well, no actually...” The rook explained. “There were a few servants, I think her husband too, but I didn’t see him and, well, there was also a little girl, she was playing in the garden when I got there” he went silent for a minute. “Four or five, running all around the garden, redhead, blue eyes, freckles...” He paused for a second, frowning thoughtfully for a second; “Looked a bit familiar, now that I think about it.”

Leon traded a look of intelligence with Olga before looking back at the Rook once again; “I see… That’s some interesting information. Do you have the address of the place?”

Olga moved, standing behind the Rook.

“Uh, no, not really…” The rook awkwardly rubbed behind his neck. “I do remember the village, Lindfield in West Sussex. Miss Thorne paid for my train fare, I think that was the biggest house there, it won’t be hard to find.”

Leon shrugged and scratched his chin; “Probably.” He addressed the woman; “Miss Plumb.” Olga then took a roll of money from her pocket, giving it to the man over his shoulder. “There is your reward, make good use of it.”

The rook smiled, getting the money from Miss Plumb’s hand and counting it. “Thank you, sir!” He took off his cap and bowed his head to both before leaving.

“That was interesting.” Olga commented, after the man left. “Unexpected as well.”

“Indeed, Miss Thorne never struck me as the kind of woman to have a ward.” He put both feet on the table.

“Those rich types do that all the time.” Olga said with a shrug. “Take a child to be raised by their servants so they can play the card of being the good hearted ones to those poor kids… As if saving one from finding out about the world would do them any good.” She scoffed. “When they should be put to work to know reality.”

Leon gave her a side-look of interest and an amused smile. “How Darwinian, Miss Plumb.”

“Not at all sir. He believes on the survival of those who fit, I believe in the survival of those who are strong enough.”

The Russian let out a laugh. “You are a truly fascinating woman, Miss Plumb. Now, if you would do me the favor, would  you kindly go visit that village for me?”

~0~

The train left the station. Inside, a passenger barely felt its movements, partly due to being used to it and partially due to being deep in her own thoughts, not something particularly desirable at the moment.

She was not in the mood for a long mental dissertation about love, but she was doing it anyway since there was very little control to be had over those in certain moments. Thoughts and memories are such sneaky things sometimes. They burrow their way into your head, and it’s especially hard to forget something that turned what should be amazingly sweet into bitter poison.

Lucy had never fallen in love in her life. Looking back at what she once considered past heart breaks, now she saw them as not being love, just a spur-of-the-moment thing; the first one happening when she was sixteen, the second time when she twenty one, at twenty five she believed herself in love with none other than Starrick himself, despite the fact never before she found any men alluring, but that was as fleeting as it was dire in its consequences, fortunately amended.

Evie, however, was different. She knew she was attracted to her from the beginning, from the first time she got presented with her picture, she found the girl attractive. It is very easy to tell who you would like to throw to your bed, but actual feelings are harder to identify, and are harder to come.

Maybe, from a certain point of view, falling for her was unavoidable, but the way she realized it...

“Finally. We need to talk.” Evie came into her wagon, closing the door behind her. “About--”

“Nothing happened.” Lucy said quick and tired. “Nothing at all, I didn’t touch you. Just leave, please.”

“I need to know exactly what happened.” the assassin insisted.

“Is that really necessary?” the occultist replied. The assassin’s timing was perfect in a most horrid way, as if her brain wasn’t already swarmed in the memories of that night, things she didn’t want to think about, like how much the younger woman’s words stung and how the pain made her realize the truth.

“Yes!” Evie insisted once more, her voice demanding, angry and worried. So many feelings mixed together, and why? Because she really needed the confirmation, Lucy would guess, so she narrowed her eyes.

“Very well.” Lucy stood up and started pacing around the room, both hands behind her back, trying to keep her composure; “You stripped all of your clothes and straddled me, kissing me several times.” 

Evie’s eyes went wide with panic, fearing what would come next, something the redhead noticed, but ignored, she just kept speaking; voice was clear, almost clinical, delivered with the coldness and precision of a good pupil;

“You were drunk, obviously, a very pathetic image. I kept trying to push you away, but you wouldn’t leave me, until the point where you asked if I wanted you, to which I replied that, yes, I do in fact,” she stood in front of Evie now “but that I also wanted you when you were sober, to which you replied” her voice faltered for a second and she had to stop to take a deep breath; 

“ _ You can’t have me sober. _ That’s a direct quote, Miss Frye.” Her brown eyes stared into Evie’s coldly. “After that I got out of the bed and went to sleep on the floor, since I am not the kind of woman to lay with someone who does not want me when they are sober.” One eyebrow raised “Is that all you wanted to know?”

Throughout the speech, Evie’s face assumed a panicked look that only grew, but the reason of the panic, however, changed. She couldn’t believe she had said that. She couldn’t understand WHY she had said that. What had she meant? And she was so sure of what she wanted, but now she didn’t know anymore. She knew nothing beyond the fact that she wanted to make up for those horrid words  “Oh God, Lucy, I’m--”

“Don’t call me that.” The redhead cut her off. “Now that you know what you wanted to know, you may leave.”

Evie, however, had to say something; “I didn’t mea--”

“Once, again, Miss Frye;” Lucy said with a more forceful voice, “spare me. Now leave.” She turned her back on Evie, walking to her chair and sitting on it, opening a book. “We are really close to finding the shroud and killing Crawford, you’ll be rid of me soon enough.” Lucy looked at Evie one less time over the top of her book; “Let’s just pretend this never happened and have the decency to part as mutually respectful acquaintances at least.”

The assassin realised that there was nothing she could say to change the situation, at least not at the moment, so, without other alternatives, she respectfully bowed her head and left.

~0~

“Well, George, why don’t you just ask her?” Henry said, organizing a few papers in his Curio Shop with care, before pulling one out and starting to make annotations in it. “I am sure Miss Thorne wouldn’t mind answering a few questions about her youth.” His eyes fluttered up to the other assassin; “but I must admit, I find your sudden interest to be a bit puzzling.”

“This woman is allegedly our ally,” Westhouse said, both arms crossed over his chest, his hood was pulled back, exposing the brown hair with a few grey strands in it; “being interested in where she came from is just a very reasonable step that you” he pointed at Henry “should have taken.”

Henry chuckled, still concentrated on accounting; “I did, my friend. I collected all the information about Miss Thorne since she joined the Templars.”

“Yes, but before that...” George insited.

“I looked up SOME information, but she didn’t seem to have any connection with either party before meeting Starrick in Barcelona.” Green explained.

“What about Captain Gregory Bertram?” George questioned.

“What about him?” 

“Did you know he was a member of the brotherhood?”

“Yes.”

“Well, did you know he was Sir Cornelius Lewis’ lover?” Westhouse asked, opening his arms, to which Henry looked up surprised and fascinated; “And that Rowena Lewis, Cornelius’ sister married Richard Thorne?”

“I didn’t even know that Gregory Bertram was attracted to men!” Henry said surprised. The truth was, when researching assassins, he never looked up their romantic life unless it was brought up, but truth was, despite the several mentions of Sir Cornelius, he never knew they were romantically involved, much less that Sir Cornelius’ sister married Richard Thorne. “I can’t believe I overlooked this, this is shocking.”

Westhouse raised an eyebrow; “The brotherhood has never had any problem with that, Henry.”

“No, no, not the fact they were lovers, the fact that Miss Thorne had any connections with the assassins beforehand.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “Still, that’s a faint connection at best, can very well be chucked down to a coincidence.” He rubbed his chin. “Doesn’t change the fact Miss Thorne didn’t get any knowledge of the assassins.”

George opened his mouth and closed again, thoughtful, considering revealing more of what he said.

“You don’t need to go all of these lengths just to tell me I should pay more attention, George.”

Westhouse said nothing, shooting Henry a look that the assassin couldn’t quite identify; “You’re right, I am sorry...” He blushed. “I guess I might be reaching.”

Westhouse crossed his arms, leaning against one of the book shelf, his eyes clouded, his mind deep in thought. Henry sighed, laying his pen and sitting straight, eyes on his friend.

“I understand you’re worried, but trust me, Miss Thorne has proven her loyalty, if not to the assassins, to Evie and Jacob. She even saved my life and I would say that I wouldn’t hesitate calling her a friend by this point.”

George looked surprised, like he was yanked from other thoughts, but soon his face took a more neutral form when he asked; “So, you trust her?”

“Yes.” Henry closed the book, putting it in one of the drawer.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

**Afternoon:**

_ I apologize for the brevity of this letter, but we shall be reunited soon and so we shall talk in person, my dearest Frank, and I do believe that if you look the right way, you might find all you need in this very paper, written with the ink of my soul. _

_ Send my regards to Mr. West and our other dear friends, I hold them in my heart with the love I would feel for a brother in a secret corner of my heart. _

_ With Love and Freindship,  _

_                                             Miss Harriet Fairfax. _

 

“Mrs. Disraeli, Prime Minister; This is my sister, Evie Frye.”

Lucy came down from the train, without noticing Evie’s eyes on her. It was better she stayed away while they discussed the matter of the invitations to the queen’s ball, or so she felt. Maybe it was just the fact she couldn’t quite stand being around Evie right now, that love was tearing her apart and she couldn’t wait for it to be over. She would take any oath, any promise, any alliance with the assassins as long as she got to live and be left alone, perhaps take Nellie with her somewhere else.

She had come down in the Victoria station and walked slowly through the streets of Westminster, perhaps a bit too distracted from the things going around her, but some sort of luck hang around her and no templar guards saw or approached her. After walking quite a lot, she realized she was hungry and made her way to the address. She took a table and it wasn’t long till someone stood beside her.

“Mind if I sit with you, miss Thorne?”

“Mr. Westhouse.” Lucy looked at him, raised eyebrow a rather common gesture at this point. He had his hood pulled back. There was a certain vagrant-like quality to his unshaved face; “I thought we had already depleted our topics of conversation.”

“Indeed,” George agreed “but I rather think of this as a amicable lunch, it’s never fun to eat alone, if you allow me to sit with you, of course.”

Lucy, looked at him for a few seconds, before letting out a resigned sigh; “You may.”

He pulled the chair and sat down; “Thank you, Miss Thorne.”

Lucy put down her menu and looked at him, sitting opposite to her with an analytical look. “Still, I find it very difficult to believe you’re only here for friendly companionship.”

George looked thoughtful for a second; “I am curious about you, to be honest.”

The redhead looked surprised at that; “Oh?”

“You’re an interesting character, Miss Thorne,” he explained “You said something especially intriguing today.”

“What would that be?” Thorne took a sip of water, her eyes not wandering from him for even one second.

There was a queer expression in his eyes when he spoke; “That your dagger was a present from your governess.” His words were deliberate, almost like saying he hoped to get something back from her.

Despite not knowing what he wanted, Lucy was still determined not to give it to him; “Yes it was. What about it?”

“That’s not a common present for a well bred gentille young lady.” he observed, looking her in the eyes.

Thorne frowned, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the observation. “No it isn’t. But I guess Miss Fairfax knew me a lot better than what society’s superficial expectations would.”

“Miss Fairfax.” he whispered and added, looking up towards Lucy; “She sounds like a remarkable woman.”

“She was ahead of her time.” The redhead said, her voice filled with a fondness that over twenty years couldn’t erase. “I wouldn’t be the woman I am am today without her.”

“That’s a bold statement.” George sat back, thoughtful, crossing his legs “I am sure whatever she gave you wouldn’t have worked if you didn’t already have something in you.”

“Maybe. But without her, whatever it was, it would have been misdirected and misused.” Lucy said with conviction; “Without her guidance I might as well not have had it in me.” She leaned forwards, lacing her fingers on each other. “Goes to show how much of a difference having someone to guide you to the right path can make.” She leaned back onto her chair, eyeing Mr. Westhouse with certain suspicion.

“Guidance is important, but can be seen as steering someone towards a path.” George observed, keeping his eyes on her.

“There is always a degree of that to it,” Lucy conceded with a shrug; “but don’t we all wish others to do what we believe it’s best?”

“We do, but we might be wrong when we do it, that’s also a possibility.” He pointed out. “There is no objective way to know you’re right, and even if you are, things might change. Even that which we see as absolute tru--”

“Are you leading this into a discussion of what truth is?” She grinned and narrowed her eyes, feeling that she had just caught him on what he was trying to do; “I thought your type didn’t believe in it.”

He smiled; “Oh, we do believe in it and its mutable nature.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow; “If it changed, it was never true.”

“Nothing is.” George responded with a grin.

“Mr. Westhouse.” she said, adjusting her herself in her chair and looked him in the eyes. “I’ll ignore you now and ask for something to eat.”

With one gesture, she called the waiter.

~0~

_ Never let your personal feelings interfere with the mission. _

“Miss Frye, is something bothering you?”

“No, Your Highness, I am fine...”

While driving the recently stolen royal carriage, it occurred to Evie that this was more complicated than her father could have ever foreseen when he told her that. She was disappointed with herself for what she had done, for what she had said, despite not remembering it. Frye doubted it was a lie, there was too much pain in Thorne’s eyes when she spoke, and hearing it made her wonder.

Maybe it was because once someone told her that the drunk don’t lie, which is not completely true when it comes to what we say to others, but there is something about the altered state of mind of alcohol that can fetch things in the depths of your soul and bring to the surface things you hid from yourself. In that way, it made you tell the truth.

After thinking about that a lot, a back and forth in her own mind, she realized that her words to Miss Thorne made her realize she did in fact, want Lucy. She didn’t know to what extent, and she still couldn’t tell if it was attraction for a woman that was both remarkable and beautiful or something deeper, but what she knew was that she also wanted Henry and a choice was now necessary.

She didn’t know. Maybe they would be the ones to not want her? How strange it was that that was almost comforting. The idea she would be rejected, left miserable and broken to heal alone sounded better than feeling this torn.

Maybe Jacob would be there for her, or maybe not since their relationship was deteriorating as well ever since they came to London, perhaps even before that, back when their father died. She had been so determined to make him proud that she didn’t consider that maybe Jacob had other plans.

Her brother was hard to read, however.

She could never tell if he wanted her around or not. He never asked for her help in his plans and then accused her of doing nothing while he knew she was focused on finding the shroud, but would still offer his help, only to cause her plans to go to hell. And the worse part was how he didn’t seem to care about it. He didn’t care that she lost the crate, he appeared when she was looking for the shroud in Saint Paul only to tell her she should stop caring about Henry and later...

Evie had never been as angry at him as when his response to the threat of Crawford getting it was “let him have it”. It told her in no uncertain terms he didn’t cared for her work. He didn’t even care for his own work, or maybe still didn’t believe the shroud was important. She had doubted him in the past, but lately she felt like he had no confidence in her. Maybe he never had.

She felt that Jacob was expecting something different for their lives, but she didn’t know what.

~0~

Jacob had “procured”, as Evie would say, Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone’s invitations from right under their noses… Yes, he had to knock out a few guards in the way, nothing too big, but it wasn’t that hard or left Mr. Gladstone defenceless or anything, now he just felt he needed a carriage more in line with a royal party to complete the package.

Doing all of this was almost tedious, to be honest. At this point he was quite used to it and the fact he couldn’t run with the carriage. It was “borrowed” after all, how rude would it be to cause damage to it. Those circumstances made his mind wander, as his body just went with the flow and did what was now almost natural.

Jacob Frye was not the type to think deep thoughts, that was Evie’s thing, but lately he found them coming to him at an alarming rate, because there was just too much happening. Even his usually take-action personality found itself overwhelmed by his thoughts and, to be perfectly honest, feelings as well.

Not that he would admit it.

Pearl had hurt him. He loved her, he felt he really did. She was gorgeous, intelligent and of a really good sense of humor in an upper-class and sarcastic kind of way. He enjoyed talking to her as much as he enjoyed sleeping with her, but she lied to and used him, and that was something that Jacob couldn’t tolerate, despite the fact that he felt a small part of him would always regret taking her life.

Then Roth, someone he saw as a father figure, one that understood him this time around, one that saw the world like him, or so he thought, up until that last moment when he learned a lesson that Ethan could have never taught him. Because he would never go that low and in a way, the best lesson for a practical spirit like Jacob.

Then he kissed him.

Then Roth invaded his life and forced upon Jacob something he didn’t want, this time with perfect success. This time without the assassin having a way to escape or a choice, and that was what disgusted the younger Frye. That was what revolted him and made him feel more used than all the things he did willingly with Pearl ever made him feel.

‘In turn, I did the same with Ned.’ He realized now.

Turned out that Roth had taught him a second practical lesson and Jacob hoped that Ned would be willing to listen to him.

 

**Evening:**

_ She had her arms crossed over her chest as she quietly watched her governess put her things away. Lucy couldn’t help but feel abandoned. Miss Fairfax’s announcement that she was quitting her job came suddenly and hit the young girl really hard. She felt betrayed and angry, but also didn’t want to just lock herself in her room, which was her usual way to deal with it. _

_ “I know you’re there, Lucy.” Miss Fairfax said suddenly without looking at her. _

_ Lucy huffed, her expression serious and heavy, or rather as serious and heavy as a eight year old could look with a dash of disappointment and betrayal in her eyes, something that looks the same at most ages. _

_ Miss Fairfax turned to her, observing the girl for a few seconds, her tiny body tense, her eyes shining with tears she was holding back and the governess sighed, walking towards the little redheaded girl and kneeling before her, reaching to touch her arm, only to have her violently yank it out of reach. _

_ “Lucy...” Miss Fairfax sighed. “Don’t be like that. I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to, believe me.” She stretched her arm and offered Lucy her hand, but the young girl just comprimed her body against the wall, keeping her distance. “Come on, Lucy… Is this what you really want? For us to part like this?” _

_ The little girl looked at her, her eyes finally overflowing for a second before she hugged the governess tightly, burying her face in her neck to the tears and the sobbing, since the prideful Miss Thorne was not a big fan of letting people see her suffering. In-between the hugging, crying and the loud, breathless sobbing, Miss Fairfax could hear one question; _

_ “Why?” _

_ “It’s life, Lucy.” She answered, pulling away to look the little girl in the eyes, drying her tears with her thumb. “It’s constantly moving and changing, if even the things we thought to be permanent can change, imagine the ones who we knew couldn’t last forever.” Her tears dried, Fairfax put both hands on her shoulders. “You knew I would have to go at one point.” _

_ “It’s too soon.” She responded, in a small voice. _

_ Fairfax’s brows furrowed deeply; “It’s always too soon, love.” A sad smile blossomed on her lips. “Who knows how much longer they still have with those they care about?” She hugged her tightly a last time before standing up; “Be strong, Lucy.” Fairfax turned around and reached for something in her drawer; it was the dagger she used to teach the young girl how to fight. She turned back to the girl. “As long as you carry the things I taught you, I’ll always be with you, and as long as you have this,” she gave her the dagger “you’ll always have something to remember me by.” _

_ Lucy looked at the dagger mesmerized,  _ as she had done many times before since the day her governess left and she never heard of her again.

Now an adult, she had not forgotten about her at all, but thinking about Miss Fairfax that much was starting to get her to catch on to certain things, such as; The fact that now what Miss Fairfax said, suddenly so fresh on her mind after many years, sounded a lot with what an assassin would say. 

Freedom, choice, taking control of your own life. It was shocking how much templars and assassins could have in common, with the difference that Assassins would apply it to the world and Templars would do so only to themselves, and she was mostly alright with it. Not everybody knew better, that was why leaders existed and that was what they were, the ones who knew better, the leaders.

She found herself no longer agreeing with that so easily; She observed the mistakes of her, now mostly dead, ex-associates; Manipulation, greed, lies, bad judgement... Even Pearl, her dearest friend had made the mistake to play with someone’s heart like that, but Lucy guessed it was a family thing; after all, despite her own true inclinations, she had, at one point is the past, found herself attracted to Starrick himself, something that turned out to be a mistake and wielded consequences that would accompany her for the rest of her life.

The question came to her; Those were the leaders? That band of arrogant fools, so full of themselves, so likely to underestimate their enemies, so easily corruptible; they would be the guides of the new world order?

Starrick was the worst of them, still, so much so he could only be the leader; quick to talk of justice when afraid of seeking revenge for Pearl, but just as quick to associate with people like Roth and make up some excuse about how controlling the gangs is better, when he had tried first to bribe the higher-ups in the police force.

“Miss Thorne?” It was Westhouse again, and Lucy started to wonder if he was stalking her.

“What is it, Mr. Westhouse?” She asked curtly.

George paced in front of her, nervous and conflicted, almost as if saying what he had to was hard for him. 

Lucy raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, right in her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“I have something to tell you. I believe I met Miss Fairfax. There are some clues, the dagger, the time period, they belonged to a dear friend of mine.”

“How is that even possible?” Lucy asked, surprised a respectable woman such as Miss Fairfax would know someone like George Westhouse, or anyone of his ilk.

“Well, getting a job as a governess is not hard when you have good recommendations. It was easy for her to get those, and she was good at keeping her secrets. Hide in plain sight is part of our code--”

Thorne frowned and cut him off; “She was an assassin?”

Response was immediate; “Yes.”

The ex-templar felt a rush of anger run through her and she couldn’t keep it away from her voice when she spoke; “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you heard her name?!”

“Because Harriet Fairfax wasn’t her real name.”

 

**Night:**

 

_ “Seems pretty innocent for me...” A young George Westhouse told Ethan as he finished reading the letter. “If a bit too in character.” He shrugged, he never bothered learning her fake name anyway, it wasn’t like Ethan would even allow him to write Miss Read a letter. _

_ Ethan smiled at him; “You can’t read between the lines, I see.” He then looked down on the paper, concentrating on it, and George frowned; _

_ “I can, but I do not have Eagle Vision...” The older assassin laughed and George’s brow became even more furrowed; “What does it say, Ethan?” he asked impatiently. _

_ “The mission to Uruguay was a success and both the Brazilian and Uruguayan Brotherhood are very thankful for our help. Gregory and Cornelius are taking some time off to enjoy each other’s company.” Ethan said, concentrating on the letter. “She was unfortunately unable to communicate with the entity again, but managed to convince her charge that it was all a dream, or so she hopes.” He looks up. “I fear she is growing too attached to the girl.” The assassin looked down on the letter and quoted. “Lucy is so bright and fierce. She has a defiant form of intelligence very much fitting with the one of our brotherhood. A willingness to face against odds and, despite her temper, I see great things for her future. I should hope our little girl, have we ever have one, should be just like her.” _

_ George looked up with a confused expression; “Is that bad?” _

_ “Yes.” Ethan’s voice was hard, but not his expression, that was more worried than anything. “She’ll leave that child’s life forever and never go back. She might hurt herself and the girl if she grows too attached.” _

 

“Fortunately, Mr. Frye was wrong, I suppose...” Lucy said with some bitterness as she stood up and looked outside the window. “She left and never looked back.” The redhead rubbed her forehead trying to wrap her head around all of that. Miss Fairfax was Cecily Frye, mother of Evie and Jacob Frye, an assassin. The woman that was the first person to even give some aim to her anger at the world had called her ‘someone fitting with their brotherhood’. She was torn between being offended and honored.

“I don’t know, I only saw Cecily a few times after she came back.” George had a pained expression. “She died giving birth to Evie and Jacob little more than a year later,” Westhouse went silence and added; “but that dagger was a prized possession of hers. For her to give it to you, it seems to me at least, she cared about you a great deal, and didn’t want you to forget about her.”

Lucy vaguely remembered that information about the twins, but now it pierced her like a knife. Cecily Frye, Miss Fairfax was dead and Thorne doubted she ever thought of her again, even with giving her the dagger. But a small part of her, at least, was thankful that Mr. Westhouse was sincere enough to say he didn’t know, instead of spinning some story about how Cecily always loved Lucy deep down or some such nonsense that he didn’t have any way to know.

She looked at the dagger, wondering if despite what George said, the present was a spur of the moment thing. “It means nothing, you know.” Lucy’s eyes lifted to George. “I still don’t believe in the assassins, I don’t care if Miss Fair-- Mrs. Frye was one, I still don’t believe in your nonsense.”

“I didn’t tell you that with that intention, I just thought you deserved to know the truth...” he explained.

“I thought nothing was true.” she mocked, hoping to make him angry, hoping he would leave..

He wasn’t angry, but that did managed to annoy him slightly, which gave Lucy great satisfaction “Maybe when you can see beyond the surface of our creed, you’ll change your mind about it, Miss Thorne.” George walked off after that, leaving Lucy to finally let her tears flow over the only person, aside from her uncle, that she ever felt cared about her.

~0~

“You’re a pretty good artist.” Leon said, looking upon the sketch of the little girl that Olga had made. “She does look familiar, doesn’t she?” He enquired, scratching Tatiana’s head. “What color are her eyes?”

“Blue.” Olga responded simply. “And sharp...” she felt the need to add, remembering when the little girl noticed her and stared in her direction. The young Plumb would hate to admit, but there was something in her look that was commanding and made Olga a bit uneasy, leading her to go somewhere else to finish her drawings.

“Are the guards in position?” The Russian had this eyes on the little girl. She did look remarkably familiar, especially around the eyes.

“Yes.” she nodded her head once. “They’ll inform us of any rooks showing up and of the household’s habits in the meantime.” Olga observed as Leon put the picture down and opened his mouth to talk again, but she spoke first. ”The same goes for the trail of Mr. Frye, but I do believe Tatianna will be essential for that.”

Leon laughed and scratched under his dog’s neck. “Yes, she will, she is the only one for the job. Aren’t you, Tanya?”

The dog wagged her tail when addressed, excited and happy.

“Oh, be patient, love, be patient.” he laughed, playing with the dog’s ear. “Soon enough it will be time.”

~0~

Things had been so heavy lately, so tiring. There was too much fighting, too much attrition and in moments like this, there was no better thing to bring peace than being too tired to fight;

“You look exhausted.” Jacob teased, with a tired voice when she got into the carriage he had ‘borrowed’ to take them home.

“And you don’t.” Evie shot back with a small smile, sitting besides him..

“I thought you would be happy with all of this work.” he gave her a toothy grin, “it was always your thing.”

“You can have too much of a good thing, turns out.” she said, and he laughed in response.

He chuckled, making the horses move faster towards the station; “Oh, dear sister, what have you done today? Gotten the info you needed from the Maharaja? Had fun while doing it?”

“Yes, I did get what I wanted and had to steal a royal carriage to get it and then give it back, so there is the fun as well.” She yawned with a small smile.

Jacob clutched his chest in mock pain; “I can’t believe you left me out of that fun!”

She laughed at that, shrugging; “Sorry, Jacob. Besides, you would have liked the carriage stealing part, but not so much the listening to political talk part.”

“You have to take the good and the bad, I suppose.” Jacob gave her a half smile and turned to look at her; “You need a good night of sleep, I am serious here.”

“I look that bad?”

“We both do, I think.” He went silent.

“Is there something wrong?” Both asked at the same time, with the same worried tone in their voice, surprising each other. It was a long time since they had one of those moments, speaking at the same time, the same thing, showing that kind of worry for each other.

“Yes...” Again, both said, but this time it made them laugh.

“This is getting ridiculous.” Evie said, between laughs, as soon as she good to avoid them doing that again.

“I was going to say that.” The younger twin quipped.

“Oh, quiet you!” She rolled her eyes. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

‘I kissed Ned...’ Jacob almost said, but he couldn’t. What would his sister say? There was so much she didn’t know right now. That he was pretty sure he actually loved Pearl, how Roth made him feel, how he felt guilty for doing the same to Ned.

“I don’t want to talk about it, it’s… It’s not easy to.”

Evie wanted to protest, but found herself unable to, since she herself had things right now she wanted to share, but also didn’t wanted to.

“Alright… But you know you can trust me, right?” She pushed him with her shoulder in a light and playful manner, making him grin;

“Always.” There was a long pause after that as Jacob continued to conduct the horses, his mind on other things. “I have to go.” He said suddenly, giving Evie the reins and getting down from the seat.

His sister took the reigns, surprised by his sudden departure; “Where?”

“I have to set something right! Don’t wait up!” Jacob used his rope launcher and disappeared on top of the building.

~0~

Tired, Lucy dragged herself to bed despite the early hour of the night, laying back on it, facing the shaking ceiling, her mind still processing things. She realized that was something she had been doing a lot lately.

Lucy had never been the completely inconsequential type, such as Mr. Frye. Despite her temper taking the best of her sometimes, she usually thought about things, but never had things shift so much and so fast, feelings and thoughts mixing, logic could not find its place in her head, and she could not reach conclusions from everything she knew or heard lately.

She put her arm in front of her face, covering her eyes and sighed tiredly, taking a deep breath as she tried to relax, tuning out the rest of the world, letting the train rock her to sleep, to get the rest she really wanted and needed.

“Miss Thorne?” Evie called, her voice sounding timid and hesitant.

‘Oh, bloody hell.’ Thorne thought, but all she did was sigh and pretend she was sleeping, listening to see if Evie would give up and leave, but instead, she head her close the door behind her and lower the blind.

Miss Frye frowned and crossed her arms; “Miss Thorne I know you’re not asleep. You’re not breathing in the right rhythm and you still have your boots on.”

Lucy let out a frustrated sound and sat up, annoyed; “What do you want, Frye?”

“We need to talk.” Frye said with determination, making it clear she wasn’t about to let it go this time.

Still, Lucy rolled her eyes; “I already told you to forget everything.”

Evie paced in front of her, the whole thing had been obsessively playing in her head almost the whole day, playing in the back of her mind as she knocked out guards and drove through the streets; “Just forgetting would not make for the horrible thing I told you.”

“It doesn’t matter, Frye. I know a thing or two about doing things you regret when you’re drunk.” Lucy spoke, her voice gradually becoming more sympathetic. “I know you feel an obligation to apologize--”

The assassin’s face was washed in anguish; “That’s not it! It’s something altogether more complicated.”

“I don’t understand.” Lucy couldn’t deny she was worried about the girl now, she had the expression of someone fighting an unseen battle.

“I can’t deny this anymore.” Evie let out. “I want you and I can’t understand it! I never felt this for a woman in my life, I can’t understand myself, but I know I do want you.” She felt her eyes fill with tears and hated herself for it, she swallowed them and took a deep breath; “That’s why I wanted to lie and blame the alcohol, I wanted an excuse, and in searching for it I hurt you. I have no more reasons to doubt you at all, but I hurt you and I am sorry--” She stopped when she felt Lucy’s arms around her body.

“It’s alright, I know. It’s not easy to understand those feelings.” Lucy said softly, so softly it was a tone that Evie truly never expected her to be able to use, rubbing her back up and down to calm the younger woman. “I know how it is, you don’t have anything to worry about. It can be confusing.” She murmured. “Take your time, it’s alright.”

Evie pulled back slightly, to look into Lucy’s eyes. The redhead seemed to shine with a brand new light for her, not entirely new, Evie still saw the same strength there, but there was also softness, something amazing and warm, something that left Evie breathless.

Gently, she held Lucy’s face between her hands and, met with no resistance, she kissed her softly and gently, and was corresponded in kind.

 

(tbc)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am so very sorry about the time it took me to write this. To everybody who was afraid the fanfic was off, I am sorry, here I am, I am back, just… A lot of things happened, I have a billion excuses and all, but seriously, just here.
> 
> I made a bunch of Jane Austen references in this chapter, because I am a nerd, so I hope that helps. Also Evie and Lucy making out and the revelation about Miss Fairfax, that was a bit hard to write, but at least, here it is.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for your patient, I much appreciate it. I hope you all enjoy yourselves and R&R, of course, it means a lot to me. Bye bye and… Again, sorry for the time it took. XD


	9. Very Important Notes

**Chapter 9 - Very Important Notes**

 

_ Ned wasn’t home, Jacob concluded, after making his presence known from the get go, making sure to be loud and attract attention, calling Ned’s name and being clumsy to the point of tripping over his own feet… If his father could see him now. _

_ He had considered, for a second, that the thief had hidden from him, but, despite everything, that was option he kinda doubted simply by who Ned was; From Jacob’s point of view, Ned was far more likely to come out and point a gun at him, which the youngest Frye would have considered to be perfectly fair with everything that happened between the two recently. _

_ The fact Ned wasn’t there, however, made things a bit more complicated. What would, or rather could, Jacob do? Just sit down and wait? _

_ No, he couldn’t, he felt agitated, he had so much to say, but without Ned there to hear, he was afraid it would slip him, as much as he was also afraid Ned wouldn’t listen. _

_ Jacob looked around the room and saw Ned’s cabinet, opened it and, seeing pen and ink at the ready, had an idea. _

_ Sitting down he set off to write a short note, asking Ned to come and see him. It couldn’t be that hard, Evie wrote all the time after all, and there was nothing his twin could do he couldn’t. _

_ Even if in some cases, he admitted, he couldn’t do AS well as she could, but that was a two way street between them. _

_ “Ned,” he started “this is Jacob” And found himself a bit stumped after that. He had to stop to think for a second before adding; “Frye” and then “Sorry about wasting your paper” he stopped, frowning “and invading your house.” He gave it another paragraph and found himself adding “Again...” Cringing slightly to himself. _

_ Jacob groaned to himself, but pressed on with a deep breath and bit more of confidence, he put down another paragraph; “Could you come and see me at the Black Bird?” That was a good way to put it, he thought. “I will be waiting there around seven tomorrow night, if you can.” Jacob stopped again, realizing that maybe Ned wouldn’t want to see him. “I know you might not want to see me after what I’ve done, but I would like that opportunity to” he frowned, realizing he sounded just like Evie for some reason and cut off everything starting from ‘but’. “Look, I still see you as my friend and I don’t want me being stupid to end that. I need to apologise, actually do it, not just write some damn stupid letter!” He punctuated the exclamation with a bit of anger. _

_ “I am not Evie!” he added, feeling it necessary! “Just come and see me please. We need to have a man to man about this.” He wrote down and that was supposed to be it, it really was. There was nothing else he could say in the paper… Even if he kind of wanted to. _

_ Jacob felt something strange in his chest, a sudden urge to write down everything, put in the paper his feelings, the things happening right now, just fully explain himself in letter form, like Mr Darcy, but he stopped… He was sure he would be able to, so he just signed the letter “Your friend, Jacob Frye.” and stood up, moving to the window when he suddenly feared that maybe, Ned wouldn’t see the letter… Or rather the note, it really wasn’t a letter, Jacob told himself. He walked back into the apartment and tried to get a good place to pin it, somewhere that Ned would see as soon as he came in. _

_ Jacob decided to pin it to the wood part of the window, putting it at this head’s height, which he then lowered so Ned would be able to see and reach it. _

_ “Perfect!” He told himself, loudly and went to fetch a throwing knife from his pocket, just then realizing he didn’t had one on him and groaning in frustration, just then remembering the golden knife that the Russian had thrown on him and deciding to use it to pin the note. _

_ After making sure it would hold, he left, hoping that it would work. _

 

**Morning**

Evie Frye woke up slowly, with her face buried in Lucy’s loose hair, her smell filling her lungs in the most amazing way, making her take a deep breath and recall the night before; 

It was mostly chaste. They talked more than they did anything else, punctuating every change in subject with a small kiss, finding out differences and things in common, questions and answers about each other, up until the talk reached the person that had tied them together even before they knew each other. 

It was when Lucy brought up Cecily that Evie had discovered that she had more questions about her mother than she ever knew. She did sometimes inquired about her to her father and grandmother, but the thought itself seemed to cause them so much pain she had given up on asking to the point she convinced herself there was nothing to ask. She thought wrong, as it turned out. 

The night before she had lain besides Lucy on he bed and asked about her mother, questions poured from inside her, from the most insignificant things such as her favorite food and color to questions about her relationship with Lucy and how she was as a governess, perhaps in the hopes that those would have given her a clue of what having her mother around would had been like.

Evie had lain there, just listening to Lucy’s voice as she spoke fondly of the woman, of her intelligence, grace and strength among may other good qualities that, deep down, the assassin was certain had been magnified by the fact that Lucy obviously saw Cecily as a role model, which she didn’t mind really. It was good to hear the redhead speak, the young woman felt she could lay there and listen to her voice for hours, until both dozed off to sleep, in each other’s arms.

Now it was morning and the assassin forced herself to sit up, slowly slipping her dormant arm from under Lucy, almost wanting to laugh at the fact she didn’t even notice how numb it was until she started moving to stand up, quietly getting out of the wagon into her own and getting herself ready for the day.

As she changed clothes, she thought about how it was just a few hours till the party to get the shroud and Evie felt she trusted Lucy more deeply now than ever. Still, there was something she couldn’t shake off; the feeling that there was a lot more to learn about Lucy and the idea of doing it was both exciting and scary, Lucy being at the same time an amazing woman and, once, an enemy still made matters complicated.

Among all of those thoughts she continued getting herself ready, searching around her room looking for the pieces of her equipment, frowning. Having the redhead on her mind since she woke up, she now couldn’t help, but think she was forgetting something and patted at herself for her equipment, trying to bring her mind back to assassin business while checking if everything was place. Hidden blade, throwing blades, bombs, brass knuckles, cane and her kukri… And that was when she realized what, or rather, who, she was forgetting.

As if by cue, Henry came in with George at that very moment, with the first one stepping forwards with a serious expression on his face that sent a chill down Evie’s spine, almost like she expected him to know, like he was going to hate her forever for it;

“Evie, are you ready for tonight? Have you found a dress for the ball?” Henry said, looking around the wagon, not really noticing she was nervous.

In that moment she felt a strange relief from those words. The assassin nodded; “Yes, did you find the clothes for Jacob?”

“Yes.” George showed the bundle to her and frowned “Where is he?”

“He’ll be here at night, that’s all that matters.” Evie said with certainty, but stopped suddenly and a bit more unsure: “I hope.”

“What about Lucy?” Henry asked suddenly and Evie jumped: 

“What?”

Green looked at her surprised; “Is Miss Thorne going to be involved in this?”

“Of course I will.” Lucy said, coming out of the wagon and nodding towards the present, with just perhaps a tiny bit more softness when her eyes when she looked at, Evie. “I will not miss this opportunity for anything.”

“Absolutely not!” Evie and George said at the same time, him calm, but firmly adding “We still don’t know if we can trust you around the shroud.” while Evie continued with far less pragmatic; “You could get hurt!” which caused, George to look slightly surprised at her.

Lucy raised an eyebrow; “I appreciate the vote of trust on both accounts,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word; “But I am neither a child that can’t protect herself, nor foolish enough to think I could go against all of the Brotherhood of Assassins alone.”

“And didn’t you say that Venus said Miss Thorne had to be there?” Henry asked, standing by Lucy. “She called you both ‘heralds’ from what you told me...”

Evie frowned; “She didn’t say she HAD to be there, she just--” She couldn’t finish, not quite remembering what was said, but being pretty sure that that was, in fact, what was implied. “Doesn’t matter! How is she even going to get in? She doesn’t have any training and if Starrick sees her--”

“I am right here, Miss Frye!” Lucy sneered. “As I said, I do not enjoy being treated as a child!”

“Well, I guess...” George interjected, before Evie and Lucy could start fighting “Miss Thorne and I could find a way inside to give you and Jacob some help.” He looked at Green: “Henry will help Abberline to infiltrate the palace as well. Starrick will probably get his men inside somehow, we need all the help we can get.”

“George is right!” Henry added, realizing quickly that Westhouse was pairing himself up with Lucy because he needed to know if he could trust her. He looked at Evie; “I’ll help Abberline, you stay with Jacob, and Lucy and George will follow you two right after you get to the vault. We work as a group, that means no underestimating or fighting!” He gave Lucy and Evie significant looks. “Now… We just have to wait for Jacob.” 

George sighed; “As usual.”

~0~

_ Pearl smiled at him, handing him the package. _

_ “What is this, cousin?” He asked, getting as close to a smile as he could ever get. _

_ “A little present for becoming Grand Master.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant; “Father said it was traditional to get a present that would be useful in the order, usually given by the person who first introduced you, but Aunt Pearl is no longer with us, so I believe, since I got her name, might as well share her duty.” She smiled. _

_ Crawford undid the lace and found a wooden box and inside said box a revolver with everything you would need to maintain one in good working order. _

The same box was now empty.

Crawford Starrick was a patient man and of all the troubles he had lately, the loss of that revolver was certainly not the greatest, yet, that empty box bothered him more than he would be willing to tell anyone or admit to himself.

Then again, his feelings were not things he spoke off often, to anyone. Feelings were easy to manipulate and use, from time to time even Pearl played around with his’ for her own ends, and even his beloved mother would do it; feelings where a powerful weapon, and while his cousin had, unbeknownst to most, a deadly aim with any firearm she could put her hands on, she had never needed to use that.

His mother would had been proud, having help raise Pearl since her beloved sister, Cassandra, had passed. 

Aunt Cassandra, he probably remembered her face better than even Pearl herself did. Round and friendly, a stark contrast to his mother, but Pearl Starrick always did surround herself with contrast, from his father to his aunt, while making things in her own image as much as she could, as she did with Crawford. It was what some might have wrongly called “contradiction”, but to him it was just another testament to how perfect his mother could be, striking a perfect balance.

On the subject of feelings, still, even Crawford Starrick would find himself in moments like these, when his head would be flooded with memories, things he had, things he lost, the questioning if he was doing the right thing, if his plans would work in the end and even if he wanted them to, with all things he lost it was hard to tell in reality, which was something that Crawford Starrick was never supposed to do.

He didn’t remember much of his father. Robert Starrick had died in a horse riding accident when Crawford was still a child, old enough that he should remember his father more than he did, but maybe deep down he didn’t want to. He saw his mother and brother suffer for him, so instead of memories he just had this uncomfortable feeling that he just didn’t like the man very much, like he was too harsh to him, even if he couldn’t remember examples of it.

In his mind, his father was more of a ghost that his mother and brother longed for, than a person, but still, he had one clear memory of his father in his head and it was of an imposing man with one hand on his shoulder; 

_ “Crawford, the only things a man has in this world are his name and his word. Those are the only things you take to your grave.” _ He pondered, in an unusually serious tone;  _ “All the rest, the things you leave in this world are your children, your work, your legacy… We’ll all die one day son, be careful what you do and honor your word.” _

He remembered that day very well, with his father if not any other. It was his grandfather’s funeral and Mr Starrick seemed strangely cold, quiet, grim and despite not remembering his father very well, in those impressions children can have of the world around them, even without understanding or being able to put into words, Crawford knew that wasn’t how his father was, in his feelings there was the impression of a good humored sort of man.

_ “We’ll all die one day, son.”  _ Crawford remembered again; “You were wrong, father.” He thought with irony, but the irony was taken by a sudden thought; “Unless I fail…”

Standing at the edge of the moment when everything could go right or wrong he couldn’t help it, about to take a plunge he wondered, if everything went wrong, which it wouldn’t of course, but IF, he would leave this world with nothing. Pearl was gone, as had almost everybody from his rite, except for Lucy, that betrayed him and now here he was, in his 40s and if he was gone, what would he leave aside from his name and deeds as a grandmaster?

~0~

Nellie was running in the garden, up and down in those highs kids get sometimes when they are some of the few creatures in this world that are truly free; If they could run till the end of the world and back they would. 

Unfortunately for them, their legs are too short for that and she finally fell, right on top of a bunch of leaves, breathing hard and looking up into the sky, unaware she was being observed.

Olga raised an eyebrow at the young girl from her spot behind the trees. She herself had never been carefree, no breaks from life, working since she was a child to help a family that at one point tried to be honest and good only to see that it would take them nowhere in that world.

Octavia was harsh and demanding, strong and imposing, kicking aside any idiot that stood in her way, having no mercy for anyone, not even for her sister; She was as harsh and demanding of Olga as she was of everybody in her gang and that caused Olga to hate her at first, because she was young and foolish.

Her sister’s treatment was no longer judged for being right or wrong, all that she saw now was someone who made her strong, who made her who she was, and for that she was thankful and would avenge her sister... First, however, she had a job to do first and that job involved following the old woman that lived with the kid and getting a few answers, violently, if need be.

So,Olga followed the old woman as she left the house alone for the market, she left a small signal to the Blighters hiding nearby as she briskly walked off, her hand inside her pocket, fisting a brass knuckle. 

Just in case.

~0~

Ned read the note, his face making a journey, from curiosity to surprise, to one raised eyebrow and finally to an expression of bored disbelief with a side eye. He sighed and put the note down, rubbing the hole in the wooden panelling with the tips of his fingers with a frown. He looked at the small golden knife Jacob used to pin the note and pocketed it, thinking at least he got a nice present for his troubles.

On the other end of things, he didn’t know what to do about Jacob. Before the gang leader had kissed him, Ned hat do admit, he was starting to think of Jacob like that, which was a strange feeling since he never felt like that about any man ever, but the fact he had been kissed against his will filled him with so much anger he found it hard to think of those things again even if he tried and he wasn’t trying.

Still, he didn’t hate Jacob. A part of him was happy the gang leader seemed to regret what had done and other times he had been a good friend so far. Maybe he did deserve a chance to explain himself, and did punched him… Maybe after another one, Ned would finally be able to forgive.

 

**Afternoon:**

The blonde wiped the sweat from her brow, a little bit of blood on her forehead as she did so. She walked to a table nearby and cleaned her hands in a rag, ignoring the small whimpers of the bloodied up old lady tied to the chair nearby, too satisfied with herself, with what had she discovered, to care.

She washed her face and hands in a small basin, looking back at the old lady.

“You did the right thing here. You’ll get to live, despite the pain.” She said, drying herself. “Pain makes you stronger, don’t you know? I just recommend running away, Thorne will not like to know you betrayed her.” Olga walked off after that, turning to one of the blighters in the entrance. “I have a wire to send to Mr. Orlov.” She put on her coat, buttoning it careful “I’ll be back soon enough, keep guard. I have some good news to send...” Olga walked off, hands crossed behind her back and a small smile on her face.

~0~

Lucy examined the dress with a clinical eye, hand under chin and haughty expression. She frowned.

“This won’t do.” She told Evie, causing the assassin to look up from her blade, interrupting the long process of cleaning and sharpening it;

“What?” the assassin looked puzzled.

“Where did this dress come from? The French revolution?” The redhead held the hem of it with certain disgust examining it with a wrinkled nose; “Is that a cage? Those have been going out of fashion for two years now, the queen will probably be wearing one, but you’re a young woman, you’ll be spotted in a second.”

That vexed Evie slightly and she managed a teasing smile; “I never imagined you to be the fashionable type, Lucy.”

“You can’t be friends with Pearl Attaway for almost ten years and not learn a thing or two about it.” She responded, still distracted over the dress, which she suddenly let go to hold Evie by the waist, lifting the woman up and making her blush with the sudden movement. “You won’t be able to breath in it either, that corset is too stiff.” She slowly moved her hand up Evie’s abdomen, stopping just below her ribcage, making her blush deeper. “It will compress your muscles and you won’t be able to undress quickly in case you need to.”

Evie couldn’t help, but chuckle at how that sounded and that finally gave Lucy some pause, causing her to grin and nuzzle Evie’s neck, whispering; “Focus, my dear...” into her ear. “I do believe I have something better for you to wear.” She kissed her neck and pulled away, leaving Frye shivering before pulling her away by the hand, almost dragging her to her own wagon. There, Lucy opened her wardrobe and started messing about the clothes.

“What are you looking for?” The assassin asked, as soon as she recovered her composure, a little.

“A dress, obviously.” The redhead said, pulling out a red dress. “This one will do. I bought it in the beginning of the year in Paris, but Pearl wouldn’t let me wear it to the event I intended to.”

Evie raised an eyebrow; “Why not?”

“She said it would look dreadful with my red hair.” Lucy sighed. “She was right of course and in the end I couldn’t go to the event anyway.” She walked towards Evie and held the dress up to her neck, imagining how the girl would look in it. She bit her lip slightly, an analytical look on her face. “It will look gorgeous on you.”

“If you say so.” The assassin gave a soft smile. “I have to admit, it’s a pretty dress.”

“And that’s not even the best part.” The redhead lifted the skirt to show a hidden compartment to the side of it. “It’s a pocket. You can easily fit a dagger there, this one.” Lucy pulled out her own dagger and put it in place. “I believe your mother would wish you to be safe.”

“So, you changed your mind about coming?” Evie asked hopefully, making the other woman frown.

“Of course not!” She put the dress aside, looking displeased. “Why must you insist on that?”

“You’re still being hunted down by Starrick. Plus, Jacob did mention that man being after you...”

“Orlov? Don’t worry about him.” Lucy dismissed with a gesture.

“Do you know him?” Evie asked, starting to undress.

“In passing.” She responded, while suddenly very interested in her dagger. “He helped me in a search for something that Napoleon lost in Russia, probably cost him the war.”

“The Apple?” The assassin looked interested, pausing for a second.

“Yes, turns out it wasn’t there, but I got to met him. I didn’t like him there either, sounded like a bit of a blowhard, a little too proud of killing his own sister when she betrayed the order.”

“So you disagreed with that even before you became a traitor yourself?” Evie gave a teasing grin, finishing getting undressed.

Lucy scoffed: “I was betrayed first!” She took a deep breath to calm down. “But yes, as a matter of fact, I always had the impression that insane, stupid amounts of loyalty to your order was an assassin thing.” This was her Lucy’s turn to give a teasing grin.

“Might be because we actually believe in the creed… And have a creed and a handful of principles.” Evie dismissed, before looking at Lucy again and speaking before she could respond to that: “Should I try your dress on?”

Lucy sighed and nodded; “Well, you already have your undershirt on so; first the corset.” which made Evie groan and herself laugh.

“Do I really need it, I just want to see how I look in the dress.”

Coming from behind, Lucy put the corset around Evie’s torso; “Yes, and you won’t know that without putting the corset first. The dress won’t fit otherwise.” She pulls the strings, tightening the corset, taking small peaks over Evie’s shoulder at her breasts with a small grin, at least until she got caught by Evie, causing her to clear her throat and say; “Put your arms up, please.” to put a collapsible cage on Evie and then slip on the dress.

“How often do you wear these hellish things?” Evie asked.

“Only for balls. I would avoid it every time I could.” Lucy stands behind Evie and looks at them both in the mirror, hands touching her abdomen to make sure everything was in place, she was then surprised by the girl cupping her cheek and turning her face towards her own to give her a deep, lingering kiss to which the redhead didn’t resist for one second, hugging her.

Evie pulled from the kiss; “Do I look good?”

“Gorgeous.” Lucy whispered into her ear, making Evie shiver slightly, before saying deadpanned.

“Great, now help me out of this damn thing!”

~0~

Ned had finished his own note in response, a short and simple, “I’ll be there” that certainly took him far more time to put down than it would seem, and gave it to one of the young rooks he saw with the simple instruction of taking it to their boss, knowing the note would find it’s way to Jacob or Evie soon enough.

He walked down the streets pondering about the gang leader and how angry he was at him still, even if the anger was now subsidising a bit. The thief did not liked to be pressured or have things forced on him against his will, it was something he had dealt with most of his early life and sworn he would never take again from anyone! Still, he wanted to see Jacob himself and plan from there accordingly; either listening to him or punching him in the face, that was still to be decided.

However, at the moment, Ned was trying to keep his attention at the intimidating blonde man following him with a dog which he pretended very well to not notice while the casually walked through the streets, keeping in the public eye while he did his best to duck out of the way of the man using all of his usual techniques, but the man always seemed to find him one way or another, until finally, Ned decided to go for a more direct approach and turned around with a pleasant smile; “Gentleman, have we met?”

Orlov was surprised for a second, but soon flashed a smile back at him; “I believe not yet, sir, but allow me;” He bowed down, “I am Leonid Vladinovich Orlov and this is Tatiana.” He pointed at the dog standing obediently in attention besides him.

“Can I help you, sir?” Ned asked.

“Perhaps. I believe we have a friend in common.”

“I find it hard to believe.”

The Russian laughed: “I can understand that, however; Mr Frye, you know him, yes? 

Ned gave a cool shrug: “Vaguely… I do not play with those criminal types.” he grinned. 

Orlov let out a more sinister laugh that made Ned rather uneasy. 

“I see… Well, Mr. Wynert, as much as you try not to play with the criminal types, the criminal types are always willing to play with you.”

Before Ned could retort, he noticed something move at his side and before he could say anything, a bag was slipped over his head and all he had was what he could hear;

“What do we have here?” He heard the Russian man say. “Very interesting. How about we change this meeting place, huh? Take him to the warehouse, make sure he is well treated, after all, Mr Wynert is our guest.” He made a gesture and the men started to drag Ned away.

“Sir, we got a wire for you, from Plumb!” One of the men said, running towards the Russian, whatever it was, made him laugh in glee.

“Well, those are some good news!” was the last thing Ned heard before he propped up in front of a small improvised cell and with that, Ned was punched in the stomach, lost all of his wind and lost consciousness.

 

**Evening**

George walked into the train, meeting with Jacob getting dressed; “One of your rooks brought you this.” He said, examining Jacob up and down; “You don’t look bad. I am still trying to adapt to you not wearing socks over your pants.” he added with a teasing smile.

“That’s in the past, my friend!” He grinned, opening the message and reading it, a smile growing in his face.

The older assassin pulled his hood from his head. “Good news?”

“You could say that.” Jacob folded the paper and put it on his pocket. “A good friend is willing to forgive an offence, that’s good news, right?” He smiles and moves to Evie’s door, knocking on it. “I am ready, are you?”

Inside, Evie was still having her corset tightened by Lucy as she responds between grinded teeth a little angry; “No, I am not, can you be a little patient!”

Jacob jumps back a little at her tone and looks at George; “My, my, someone is angry.”

George raises an eyebrow; “Don’t mock her, you have no idea how terrible it is to be wearing a corset.” he said, sitting down on the sofa.

“And do you?” Jacob asked sarcastically, really not expecting the look that George gave him, making him go wide-eyed; “Oh god, you did? When?”

George laughed “Your mother and I had a mission once. She needed someone to pass as a young lady she was teaching, I was sligh and tall, no hairs growing on my face yet and my voice was still changing, all and all I looked like a teenager at the time and really wanted to help, so she dressed me as a girl.” He shrugged. “Can’t say it wasn’t an interesting experience, unpleasant in some aspects, but very introspective.”

However, the youngest Frye looked a bit uncomfortable at the idea; “Still, didn’t it feel… Strange?”

Westhouse smiled; “It’s just clothes, Jacob, the mission was more important and wearing a dress once didn’t change who I was inside. Your mother dressed as a man a few times, didn’t change her. You could put your friend Ned in a dress he would still be a man.”

“Well, of course.” Jacob shook his head and thought a little. “Did people treat you differently? Did you notice something?”

“Of course I did. That part was the unpleasant one;” He frowned and sighed. “I couldn’t be alone for a second without having some ‘gentleman’ approach me.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow; “They approached you?”

George shrugged; “I guess I made an attractive young lady… Still no reason to approach an unknown girl that is a third or a fourth of your age or or so. Fortunately, Cecily was there to play my no nonsense governess, scolding me for running off and such.” He smiles at the memory. “She apologized later, of course, pretending it was my fault that they harassed me was a good way to not offend the old windbags and keep us on the down low, but still, when she spoke.” He shivered a little and then chuckled. “Cecily could had been an amazing actress if she wished so.”

Evie suddenly opened the door and walked in, followed by Lucy; “We’re done, finally!” She said, with a sour expression. “Let’s get going, and hope this night is done quickly!”

“You look nice…” Her brother looked her up and down. “Are you not going to do anything different with your hair?” And only after saying that Jacob focalized in her expression, which made him, for one moment, be thankful she wasn’t wearing her hidden blade while on their part, George and Lucy were looking at him with their best ‘You’re an idiot’ expressions, of which Lucy’s was the more devastating one, as devastating as her voice was tired when she spoke;

“Just go get the carriage, Mr. Frye.” She stepped aside, wearing a heavy black overcoat and a very familiar hat.

“Hey, thats mine!” Jacob looked offended. “Why are you dressed like that, Red?”

“You need a coachman, don’t you?” She adjusted the flat cap, her hair pinned up and hidden under it, then adjusted the black cravat. “Don’t worry, rarely do those people even look people of lower standing in the eyes. I’ll keep in the sidelines with the other servants. George and I will keep an eye on Crawford’s men from within.”

“How is George going to--” Jacob stopped when he saw George slide under the carriage and disappear under it, holding on to something there, Jacob didn’t know what.

Lucy opened the door to the carriage, letting Jacob get himself in and offering Evie a hand with a dashing smile that made Evie blush, which made her brother rather confused.

~0~

Greengrove Park.

The old Attaway property now didn’t even looked like it had once almost burned to the ground, killing it’s mistress and her three elder children, sparing only the youngest one, giving her tirdy more years to to build herself up as her own woman with just the help of her father and her very dedicated aunt.

Still, her time was up, as it was with all living things and so she was laid to rest in the ground, between her elder siblings that perished on the fire and her parents, finally reunited again in the peace of a grave.

It seems that nowadays one can’t even have peace in their own graves. In the private cemetery in the Attaway property, a graverobber named Terrance dug the freshest, and possibly last, plot in the property while he whistled a jaunty tune, unperturbed by any ideas of the revenge of the dead or curses from disrespecting the final resting place of some rich lady. 

Mostly because he knew better.

Pearl Attaway’s grave had, just recently, received its inhabitant, the rich former tycon of transport was laid to rest by her cousin in her family plot as she requested, not without some grief over not being able to deposit her in his own, under his name, but life obviously didn’t went as he wanted. Much like Terrance’s.

After vigorously digging, he finally reach the cover of the casket, ripping it open with his shovel, he came face to face with the pale, lifeless body of Pearl Attaway and immediately and shamelessly started to to work on stripping it from all which looked of some value; starting by the rings, usually the hardest ones to remove, then the gold and black pearl earings and finally, the object that attracted the most attention in it; the golden necklace with the purple stone in front of it, so big and attractive, he licked his lips as he reached for it, ripping from the lifeless neck easily.

“Now, that doesn’t belong to you, does it, sir?” A voice behind him suddenly said and Terrance turned around to be confronted by something that made him scream, drop all of the jewels, run and promise to never rob graves ever again, a promise he became even more willing to keep as the figure laughed at him running away.

The figure wasn’t alone however, and one of her companions approached the jewels, picking up the necklace and bringing it back to their leader.

~0~

Lucy traded a look with Evie as she came down the carriage, one in which she tried to say all the things she wish she could say in words; Be careful, don’t get hurt, don’t do more than you have to, Crawford is dangerous, but all she could do was look and hold on to her hand as she felt that Evie was trying to tell her the same before they parted ways and Jacob offered her his arm as they marched inside.

She followed the instructions until she reached the stables, coming down from the carriage and looking around before lightly knocking on the side of the carriage.

“They are in.” The ex-templar said, looking around.

George came from under the carriage and stood up besides her. “Don’t worry, they know what to do.”

“I am not worried about them.” She replied.

“Then why are you looking around like that?”

“I wonder where it is.”

“The shroud?” George crossed his arms and leaned against the carriage, looking relaxed.

Lucy nodded; “I’ve been looking for it for years, I can’t help, but be curious right now.”

“You know, the shroud doesn’t actually makes people immortal you know.” George said, trying to sound flippant and unpreoccupied. “It only heals you really fast, the Templars seemed to--”

“I know it doesn’t make you immortal.” She cut in. “I know the conclusions of the Templars were wrong, I researched it for years! I know everything, I know about the one that Mario Auditore found, I know the effect it can have after years of being used.” She sneered. “Despite of what Crawford thought when he betrayed me, I never wanted the shroud to wear it or have it for my own.”

“I am sorry, I made an assumption.” George paused for a second. “What did you hope to accomplish with it?”

She crossed her arms as well. “To study it, to reverse engineer what it can do and use it to help humanity.” Lucy looked around again. “Think of every disease we don’t know how they work, think of the ones we do, but we lack a cure to them, think of how many people just fall sick and no one knows why, and the ones that get sick once as a child and then they never quite recover or develop beyond being a child and all the women who die at childbirth, that’s how most women die. If we could recreate something like the shroud, all of that would be gone.”

“Sounds great.” George thought of both Cecily and Ethan, but even farther back, there where his parents, both of which he couldn’t even remember. “We have never been able to reproduce what they did however. The First Civilization is so far beyond our grasp, they might as well had been wizards all along.”

Lucy nodded; “And that was why I had Brewster. We were studying the artifacts to find out exactly that… At least until the lab exploded.” She looked at him. “I know Evie killed him, but she wasn’t responsible for the explosion, I believe that was on me.” Lucy admitted, looking a little regretful over it. “Brewster was a good man, even if he had me at the end of my wits with his delays.”

“Was he a friend?” George observed as a group of maids walked by, doing their best to stay out of the sight of guests, a few flirting with the carriage drivers in passing as they did.

“No.” She said, crossing hands over her back. “Colleague. I never had many friends.” Lucy stopped and thought for a minute. “I used to think I had two, now one is dead and the other was waiting for me to get him everything he wanted and kick me out of the order and now has Hunter after me.”

“And no lovers or family either, I suppose?”

“I imagine you’re speaking about my uncle being one of you… Yes, I found that out sometime.”

George cleaned his throat; “I actually just meant family and lovers, I didn’t mean to hint at anyone specific...”

She paused, thinking for a second, before speaking slowly; “No family...” She smiled. “Lovers, however, I had quite a few. I bet if I walked in that ballroom right now, there would be quite a few nobles and maids that would remember me fondly.” Her voice sounded a bit cocky and George couldn’t help but chuckle a little, even if he had the feeling he was trying to bring things away from the family talk.

“And you remember them like so?” George asked.

“Of course!” Lucy said. “It was never love back then, my luck in the end.” She looked at him. “Being in love with a woman that will either marry or already be married to a man is not for me.” She paused. “Almost happened once in the past.”

“Didn’t went well, I presume?” George said, his voice sympathetic.

“No… She did found a husband that loved her and has a rather lovely young daughter of her own.” She took a deep breath. “He has passed now, but she has a good fortune for herself and I… I don’t feel that love for her anymore.”

George nodded and they quietly observed things, Lucy a little bit more distracted, at least until he touched her arm and pointed at a group of Templar soldiers sneaking in, they exchanged a look and followed.

 

**Night**

_ All the players in their places, Evie danced with Crawford, Lucy and George sneaked up upon Crawford’s men getting explosives ready and Jacob got the palace guard free after taking down the Templar impostors, giving Evie the signal. _

_ In the position I am right now, I assume you already know how must of these go down, your previous voyage into the animus has showed you so, exploring memories, of the brother and sister mostly, but there is this funny thing about the animus; You’ve been lied too about it. _

_ I address you directly now, my dear audience, as the person who wrote the the script you read before this one, a version of the facts, a not completely, but a version of it, in which I added somethings; lies, fiction, that had to be told to throw our enemies off, to convince those who wish to enslave humanity that they could have it. _

_ Well, they can’t. _

_ I lied to you before, and I am sorry, but it if makes you feel any better, I lied to our heroes as well, because I needed things to be facts up until a point, up until a certain spot, a certain node in time, until a fact that seemingly couldn’t be changed, because despite what legends say, lying to Juno is very very hard. _

_ The good news is; It’s no longer the time for lies, so here is what really happened. _

 

Lucy was almost stabbed in the back, but George managed to interfere and killed the man responsible.

“Thank, Westhouse! We need to stop them before”-- There was an explosion and Lucy was thrown clean off, just in time to see Crawford run towards the newly opened hole in the ground, their eyes meeting for a second as he went down the hole. She grinded her teeth and stood up, ignoring the pain all over her body as she ran in after him.

“Thorne, wait!” George screamed and tried to take after her, but found that there were still a few men of Crawford’s ready to go in after her and he decided to stay back and take care of them. “Be careful!” He screamed, stabbing another man.

“Crawford!” Lucy roared running after him. “Come back here, you traitor!”

“You’re the traitor!” Crawford screamed back, sounding honestly offended. “I am the Grand Master, you should have obeyed me and accepted your fate!”

They reached the chamber, he dashed towards the altar, opening the vault with the key

“You selfish bastard! How can you wish to have the shroud all to yourself? What about the betterment of humanity, Crawford?” As she finished talking the defences were activated and Lucy saw the beam of light coming right for her so she ran away, hiding behind a column.

“It will be achieved, with the right leader.” Starrick took the shroud out and put it around his shoulders. “One that won’t perish at the hands off--AAARGH!” He jumped back when Lucy shot at him, hitting him right in the ribs.

She smiled as he doubled over in pain, but soon enough he stood tall once again with a smile, happy it had worked. “Yes… Don’t you see Lucy? You can’t hurt me!”

Jacob ran in, eyes focussed on Crawford, so much so he didn’t noticed the beam of light that threw him back, making Lucy slap her hand against her forehead. 

“Either you weave between the beams Jacob, or you take cover!”

The assassin jumped back to his feet, shaking his head and doing as Lucy said, reaching Crawford and attacking him with everything he had, slicing his chest open with his kukri before Grand Master managed to hold his hand back, regenerating right in front of Jacob’s eyes. Starrick smile and kicked Jacob’s knee, making him fall down to his other and pulling his own knife.

Lucy took aim and shot again, unloading the revolver, but this time the bullets were stopped by a wall of light, making her curse and start to reload it as Evie ran in and saw Jacob, at Crawford’s mercy, running to them, knowing to avoid the beams, having read about them in other reports about the artifacts. 

As she weaved between the beams and walls of light, Starrick saw her, and threw Jacob back just as she reached him, jumped and kicked Crawford in the belly, making him fly back, she proceeded then to attack him in a similar manner as her brother, using her cane, Lucy ran to Jacob and dragged him out of the way of a beam, just in time.

“Jacob!” Lucy slapped him several times. “Wake up!”

“Ugh, those beams are hellish! I am never doubting Evie and you about the damn artifacts again!”

“Good! Because the only way you two will manage to kill Crawford is by taking the shroud from him!” Lucy held him by the collar. “Understood?” Jacob, however, wasn’t looking at her, as he kept his eyes in his sister, now the one to be at Crawford’s mercy. Once again, he dashed towards them, Lucy cursed under her breath and went back to observing the fight, when she heard George. “Lucy!” 

She looked, but instead of George at the entrance, she saw Orlov, rifle aimed at her head and it was for a millimeter he missed. He laughed and cocked the bullet away from the riffle, Lucy looked from her hiding place seeing George fallen to the floor behind Leon, bruised, beaten and bleeding.

“Miss Thorne, what a pleasure to see you again!” He said gleefully, starting to go around the column carefully, keeping his distance. He knew his odds, she had a revolver, he had a rifle, his precision from that distance was far greater than her’s, so he would be fine. “Now, if you come out, I promise I’ll make this quick and painless.”

Lucy looked around, aware of the same thing as Orlov, trying to think of a way to escape that. “I rather not, Mr. Orlov.” She looked up at the beam emitter getting closer. “Might not seem like it, but I am rather cozy right here.” She pointed her gun at the emitter as it got closer, having an idea, she pointed her gun at it and pulled back the hammer.

“Oh, don’t be playful like that! This cold floor can’t possibly be as good as--” He was cut by a bang and the beam emitter being short upwards and going out of whack. In a split second decision, Orlov held the rifle up, so it took most of the frontal damage, curving the barrell and rendering it useless before throwing Leon against the wall.

Lucy ran by him, foregoing the opportunity to kill the Hunter in the place of running to George and helping him move.

George was spluttering as he said; “Lucy, you didn’t hav--”

“Just stay down, we’ll get you help, don’t worry!” She got back to the anti-chamber to the main sanctuary, looking for Leon, but he wasn’t in his spot anymore. Lucy put her back against the wall and pointing her gun out, at least until it was kicked from her hand and Leon attacked her with his dagger, making her kick him away and pull out her own dagger.

“So we finally meet. I must admit miss Thorne this was a lot of fun!” Leon attacked, but the ex-templar could deflect his blade with the side of her own, pushing him away and lunging at him herself, but he jumped out of the way.

“Can’t disagree, seeing you bumble and stumble around without being able to reach me.” She grinned and he laughed back at her.

“Oh, may look like it, but I may have discovered a few things you didn’t expected anyone to.” He attacked, thrusting his dagger towards her, she managed to hold his wrist down as she stabbed down at him, which resulted on them ending up in an impasse, a position that Lucy knew she couldn’t hold since she was still weaker than him, so she started to think fast, going for the classic and kicking him straight in the balls. “ARGH!”

She ran and got on top of him, kicking his weapon again as she did, dagger against his throat. “I doubt it.”

“Is that so?” He still smiled despite their position. “Does the name Nellie means anything for you?”

Lucy’s entire face went pale, expression a full range of emotions and Leon noticed, he smiled and unleashed a hidden blade, going with it right towards her throat, but she reacted sooner than he expected, stabbing his arm, dagger going between his bones and stabbing it into the stone floor. He screamed in pain and tried to attack with his other blade, but she held his arm with both her hands, forcing the hidden blade down towards his throat, her eyes burning in fury and her voice sounding almost demonic as she said; “Touch her and I’ll kill you!”

“Olga already went to fetch her! She’ll be left alone when you die!” Leon said, looking scared for the first time, his strength failing him for the first time in his life, desperately trying to free his arms from the dagger and Lucy’s grip.

“No! You die! You die for even getting close to her, you bastard!” Lucy screamed back in fury, putting all of her weight into stabbing him with his own hidden blade, but Leon broke free from her dagger managing to stab the redhead on her shoulder and taking her strength to hold his arm away.

Orlov threw her out, unfortunately right on top of the revolver, which she took and pointed at him, shooting without hesitation, but missing all the shots as Leon found he had no choice but to run away.

“COWARD!!!” Lucy screamed after him as he ran away, but she couldn’t go after him, all of her muscles were destroyed and weakened after the strain. “Nellie...” She mumbled to herself. “I have to reach Nellie…” She fell to her knee, tears coming to her eyes as she forced herself to stand up again.

She heard a familiar scream, she looked back and saw Evie and Jacob finish Crawford, stabbing him several times after removing the shroud. The shroud, it was her only chance, so she started to drag herself to where they were.

“Henry!” Evie said, running towards him, not noticing Lucy dragging herself towards it, when, on top of the altar, Venus once again, manifest herself, looking straight at you.

_ As I promised you, dear reader, no more lies. _

“Who are you talking to?” Lucy asked, breathless.

Evie looked over her shoulder, seeing her battled and bruised; “Lucy?” She ran towards her and held her up. “What happened.”

“Orlov, he was here, he tried to kill me, as he does.” She responded, flippantly and looked up at Venus. “Who were you talking too?”

_ “You, of course… All of you. I know you’re worried right now” She hesitated for a moment “Lucy, but trust me, there is time for this.” _

“Time for what?” Evie asked, confused.

_ “To take the shroud, to meet with my followers and then leave for Pompey. Hidden inside of Vesuvius is what is left from the city is my beloved Volcano’s lost workshop, there you will find my next message.” _

“What are you talking about!” Jacob jumped back. “Evie and I found it and we--”

_ “--Would not have kept it. I know what happens now, Jacob. Neither of you wish to be eternal and unbeatable. Starrick might had been a fool, but he was right, as it is, only one can wear the shroud and neither of you wants to be the one to see the other suffer with age and pain. Trust me, I know how the story goes. Plus, as simple humans, wearing it for a long period of time is harmful” _

Jacob frowned; “I don’t like this...”

_ “Of course you don’t, you are assassins, you exist to challenge all of this, but I need you to trust me, as Ezio one day trusted and one day Desmond will trust Minerva. It’s the right moment for that.” She looked at the women; “Evie, Lucy, my heralds in this world, left and right hand of Prometheus, Father of Understanding, this was the task.” She stated, knowing what would come next. _

“I don’t have time for this now!” Lucy reached for the shroud and put it around her shoulders, surprising Evie and Jacob, both of which, for a second, thought that would mean another betrayal, emotions rushing over their heads for a second, until Lucy felt fully cured and simply took the shroud off and threw it back into the box, before holding Evie by the shoulders and kissing her deeply, lowering her arms to hug her waist, until Evie was responding to it enthusiastically, throwing her arms around Lucy’s shoulder. However, Thorne cut the kiss abruptly; “If I am lucky, I’ll be back tomorrow.” And ran off, ignoring Henry and Jacob’s stunned expressions.

“BE CAREFUL!” Evie screamed after her, not knowing what else to say. She turned to Venus, but she couldn’t get a word out.

_ “Tomorrow, a my emisary will come to your train. Take the shroud with you, keep it hidden and safe until then.” Venus reached her holographic hand and touched Evie and Jacob’s heads, emitting a light into their eyes, throwing the view from the animus into blinding white. “This should throw Juno off until the right moment” _

~0~

She didn’t had the time to wait for a train, she had to run, Lucy rode the whole night long, arriving at the village before the early lights of dawn and saw what she was afraid of; The house was surrounded by Blighters, a short blonde one being seemingly the one to call the shots. She resisted the impulse to run in and tried to get her mind cleared; They were still there, they were still looking..

“Sorry, Plumb, we couldn’t find her!” One of the Blighter’s said. “We looked all over the house, we killed everybody else, but we couldn’t find the damned girl!”

Lucy smiled and sighed in relief, thinking to herself; ‘Good, Nellie… I am proud…’

The blonde groaned. “She must have ran away…” She thought for a second. “You two! Keep an eye on the house! The rest of you, come with me! She can’t be far.” Olga walked away with the rest of them, leaving two to stand guard at the front door giving Lucy an opportunity to move.

Of all houses, she chose that one to keep Nellie in because it had a very good characteristic; a few hidden passages, all of which, Lucy made a point of knowing very well, what she didn’t know well, however, was Nellie’s hiding spots, which she had heard were a bit of a problem for her caretakers, both having asked her to reprimand Nellie for it and force her to reveal where those were… Which Lucy could never bring herself to do and that could be a problem.

Or maybe not.

“Miss Thorne?” She heard a voice call in the dark, as soon as she walked by a beam of moonlight coming from the window.

“Nellie?” Lucy asked and walked quickly towards the voice, picking the girl up and hugging her tightly, catching the girl by surprise. Hugging was not something Miss Thorne ever did… Well, hugging and calling her ‘Nellie’ instead of ‘Cornelia’. “Nellie! Are you alright? Did they hurt you? Where were you hiding?”

The little girl hugged her back, enjoying the feeling very much when Miss Thorne lift her up and took her through the secret passage. “I hid in a lot of places around the house, just as Miss Attaway told me.” Nellie explained. “She warned me about this.” Lucy smiled to herself, being careful like that was just like her. 

“Very smart for you to listen.”

Nellie nodded. I was up in the attic most of the time, “When I saw you coming into the house I came down.” She slumped forwards, laying her head on Lucy’s shoulder and yawning.

“You’re tired?”

Nellie nodded again. “I couldn’t sleep all night.” She snuggled up closer to her. “Nervous, but I feel safe now...”

“You’re always safe with me, Nellie.” Lucy ran towards the train station. “Always.” She kissed her forehead and rubbed her back. “Go to sleep.” Thorne threw her long coachman coat over Nellie’s shoulders, bringing her close, keeping her warm.

The little girl looked up at her face and gave her a small smile “I like your new hat...” she whispered, eyes heavy, closing as she fell into a deep slumber.

 

(tbc)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me over a year and a whole lot of bad stuff happened, but I am back and I am determined to finish this. We're quite close to the end now, so don't despair. I will not that this long for the next actualization, I promise. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this.


End file.
